


The Man on the Bridges End

by Artistic_Alex



Series: The Man on the Bridges End [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Addiction, Alcoholism, Angst, Attempted Murder, Awakening, Betaed, Betrayal, Bittersweet, Choose Your Own Ending, Cover Art, Data - Freeform, Depressing, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviation, Enemies to Friends, Eventual Friendship, Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies, Father-Son Relationship, Fighting, Friends to Enemies, Gen, M/M, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Mind Palace, Minor Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), New Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Non-Consensual Touching, Other, Plotty, Post Revolution, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Violence, bitter connor, occasional oc - Freeform, physical damage, tragic, you get to chose!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 41,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artistic_Alex/pseuds/Artistic_Alex
Summary: While the android was throwing his fit, he took in the boy's appearance. He was torn to shreds. Missing his right eye, he wore a rather large gash that rode over most of his face. His hair had been a mess of curls filled with what looked like little twigs and garbage of some sort.“You stupid piece of flesh and meat! How could you-“They both froze, eyes locked to each other as they slowly stood.“Connor...?”Hank was never one for philosophy or “acts of fate,” but he recognized his happening upon Connor had been no accident. When things start growing dim and suspicions begin arising, Hank must figure out his lost name and the complications behind someone who was not the same as they once were before it's too late.(I.E, despite their friendship, Hank leaves Connor behind after cyberlife tower and Connor has had to fend for himself alone in the cold cities of Detroit.)
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Connor & Sumo, Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Original Chloe | RT600/Elijah Kamski
Series: The Man on the Bridges End [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029969
Comments: 58
Kudos: 283





	1. We’ll Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my story! This will be a longer story with short chapters involving both Hank and Connors point of views! Enjoy :))

Hank hadn’t had words to have described that week. 

The days had been bland at first, he held a typical hangover on his shoulders, went to work hours later than he was supposed to, and he did his job, (half-assed if he had been honest.) He would come home, prepare a drink, and watch the game as he tried his very damndest to forget the little picture that sat on the kitchen table turned face down.

This had been his normal. It had been routine, as much as he had wished it hadn't been, it was something he learned to live with.

His old routine had been much more... Enjoyable. He had two completely different people to revolve his life around, now all he had was a picture and a few bottles of liquor to keep him company. 

He had never liked dwelling on his loneliness, although it was all he had technically done, but what else had the Lieutenant meant to do with his time? He attempted to ignore the scratching lack of productivity in his mind at the question.

He lazily patted at the Saint Bernard's fur that resided in his lap. He gave the dog a sad grunt as he took another large sip of the glass of whiskey in his hand. Closing his eyes momentarily, he had thought back to a few nights ago.

He had gone to the bridge to decompress, to get out of the house, but instead he had found that he had never left his car. He instead saw a disheveled man standing on the railing.

He never jumped, thankfully, but he instead just stood and looked over the water. Eventually, he’d step down, and head off into a random direction, disappearing into the cold January night.

Hank had always felt bitterly towards this specific fellow. That man must have had at least one reason to step down those nights. Hank wished he had one.

Perhaps the man didn’t, he had thought, maybe he had been like Hank. While he had been too cowardly to pull the trigger perhaps that man had been too cowardly to let gravity handle his fate.

Either way, he tried his best to not let this dark mindset surround him as he took another drink.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been like that if he had someone. Anyone.

He did have a friend, one he hadn’t seen for awhile.

Connor.

He hadn’t seen Connor since his imposter took him to Cyberlifes tower.

A random thought. That's what it had been, but it led to a spiral every time, one he had at least once a week when he thought of his former partner.

It had been two and a half months since the revolution. Two and a half since Connor completely ghosted him for whatever it was that deviants did. It had stung like hell.

Sure they hadn’t been close, more acquaintances than anything (a lie he told to protect himself, really,) but the idea of the android disappearing without him hurt. Especially after what happened that day. What he had told Connor, and how he reacted.

He had come around to the idea of androids, and that was because of Connor. Connor had taught him that they were about as bearable as humans. That hadn't said much but hey, it had been equality in Hanks drunken vision.

Connor was fucking annoying. But… He had been someone. Someone who actually talked to him. Even if it had all been about the investigation at least someone had had the patience to deal with his shit, if even for a little while. It was no wonder he hadn’t heard from Connor, with how he was, he’s surprised Connor hadn’t deviated from pure boredom and distaste for the man.

Then he remembered how he ignored Connor's calls, his requests to meet up.

Connor hadn’t given up on him, it had been the other way around. He had been too delusional in his ways to realize it.

He took another large gulp of his drink, grimacing as it burns its way down his throat. At this point, he wondered why he even bothered with the glass when the bottle was already sat on the table waiting for him.

He nudged the dog from his lap before he stood up, wincing at the pops in his knees as he made his way to the kitchen.

He reached for the bottle, only for his hand to fall short of it, instead lingering above the down faced frame. He let out a teary sigh, lifting it slightly before cradling it in his hands.

He hadn't like the idea of Cole seeing him like this, not even in picture form. He scowled as he slammed the picture back down and grabbed the bottle, selfishly gulping down the poisonous liquid in regret.

He turned around to see Sumo looking at him.

“What? Got a problem?”

Sumo continued to stare, his eyes appeared full of judgment, which made Hank's teeth clench.

“Yeah? And what do you know? You’re a fucking dog. You ain’t lost shit!” He took another large drink from the bottle and pointed an accusing finger at the animal. “He wasn’t your son anyways! Fuck if you get to be a baby about it-“

The dog sighed at his owner's antics and rested his head on his paws.

After a moment it occurred to Hank he had been projecting on his dog like some confused child.

“Sorry boy. Just- God, whatever.”

He was about to head back into the living room but hesitated, looking down at the bottle he currently clenched in his hands. He looked to the door and back at his keys.

He needed to think. Needed some kind of fresh air, even if it was the painful end of January’s coldest.

“Fuck it.” He said while he grabbed his keys from the table.

“See ya, Sumo. Hold down the fort, I’ll be back…” 

It didn’t take him long to get in the car and revved to go, but he remained in an inner turmoil as he made his way down the roads of Detroit.

The drive was quiet, despite the loud metal playing on a low volume over his radio.

Hank took another swig from his bottle. Most people would have been nervous to drink and drive. Not Hank. Not anymore. He knew what being in an accident was like. He knew what it could take away from him. Well, nothing to take now, he’d always tell himself. The whole ordeal almost made him get a self-driving car, but in the end, he decided he didn’t care enough for his own well-being to be worried about being in an accident again. His only hope was the second time around was enough to kill him.

There was also the worry of the police. Fuck it. He was the police. Nothing could really stop him now from doing what he wanted.

His eyes drifted from the bottle in his hand back to the road, the car only swerved slightly as he made it back into his lane.

He had pretended not to have a destination in mind, though it had always a dumb thing to do.

He had been going to the bridge where he used to play at the park with his son, the only place he had still felt connected with his lost child.

The thoughts of Cole had begun to hurt, so he took another swig and turned up the volume, his eyes closed momentarily in hopes to forget what will always be remembered.

He arrived at the park in a drunken stupor, his purpose in coming already long forgotten.

When he opened the door to his car he had felt woozy and his stomach had churned sickly which caused him to stumble before he could adjust himself. He stood as straight as he could and stared out into the water. It was cloudy, the sky was hardly clear as the lights from across the water clogged the sky.

He waddled forward, making sure he stared at nothing but the ground as he made his way to the bench. It isn’t until he heard a light sniffle that he looked up. Just as he did he saw someone lift themselves onto the railing and look over the edge.

He always had thought having a park this close to the water with such little protection was dangerous. It had always bugged him, yet somehow, hardly any deaths had been reported here, most possibly due to the diligence of nanny bot androids.

The person hadn't seemed to have heard him so Hank slowly got closer, his bottle of whiskey being forgotten for a short moment.

As he had gotten closer he noticed the poor state the fellow was in. Torn clothes, hair messed and curled, hell, if he had seen the poor man's face he would have assumed he was dead on his feet.

He had seen him before. Twice actually. He’d stand on the railing but eventually leave. He’d only started coming after the revolution, he assumed, since he had only started seeing him recently.

“Nice night, huh?” Hank said as he took a swig of his drink. The man hadn't responded, but Hank noticed the slight flinch of his shoulders.

“Is it any nicer up there?” He asked, a weak attempt at humor.

The man hesitated before he raised his head toward the sky.

“I bet it’d be just as nice if you came down,” Hank said while he shifted his balance to his left hip. “Doubt you’d want advice from an old man but I’ve learned that waiting for courage to come to you isn’t worth the wait. Might as well hop down. Spare the feelings of your family.”

It had been silent for a moment.

“I don’t… Have a family.” The tired voice had said. It had sounded dry of tears, of emotions. Broken. Robotic, even. More like an echo of what a voice used to be. Hank had almost reached out but had decided to not provoke the stranger. It was at that moment he heard the sound of dripping. Hank looked to see a drop of blue fall past the man's coat sleeves and onto the railing.

He had quickly been able to put it together.

“So. You’re an android I’m guessing.”

The android laughed, low and bitter. “You assume that just because I have no family?” He asked, his voice glitching.

“Nah. Just the blue blood dripping down your clothes is all.”

The android clicked his tongue in an annoyed response. Hank couldn't have helped but feel uncomfortable. “Look. How about you come down and we can share a drink.” He lifted the bottle, “I got whiskey.” He offered.

The android shook his head.

“I’ve learned that alcohol does nothing but corrupt. Even if I could drink it my answer would be no.”

“Prude.”

Hank walked to the railing and leaned over the side, watching through his peripheral as the android shifted away from him, probably to make himself unreachable if Hank had wanted to pull him down.

“I’ve seen you up here before,” Hank said after a long silence.

“Yeah? When?”

Hank leaned his head to his own shoulder, trying to see the androids face only to have seen flowing hair.

“I came up here about a week ago. Watched you from my car, you just stood there. Eventually, you got down and left.”

The android hummed in acknowledgment as Hank had taken another drink.

“It might not be much, but I know where you’re coming from.”

The android clicked his tongue again and blew noise from his nose as he turned away from him.

“Oh yeah? And how’s that?”

Hank thought for a moment. “I know what it’s like to be alone. To have no one. It’s my fault but… Doesn’t make it hurt any less.” The android said nothing, so he continued. “I used to have a… partner, an android. Not much like you, though. Damn kid was so… Work invested, you know? It took him too long to see the bigger picture. Eventually, when he did, I think we both decided it would have been better if I wasn’t in it.” He stayed quiet. “Or… I decided it’d be better if I wasn’t in it.”

The android hugged his arms around himself.

“I’ve been out on the streets since the end of the revolution. I waited for my old friend to greet me in many destinations, but he never came.”

“Hmm.” Hank lazily responded as he took a sip, “this friend of yours, he your master?”

The android shook his head. “No. We were partners. But he treated me like an equal. Well… He tended to treat most poorly but… He showed some levels of kindness to me.” He could hear the smile on the android's voice, but it had slowly turned into a frown. “He seemed to disappear shortly after the revolution.”

Hank tutted thoughtfully.

“Why didn’t you stay with uh, what’s his name-, Markus? Heard he had some sanctuary for your kind."

The android laughed again, causing shivers to travel down Hank's spine. It truly sounded empty and hateful. It abruptly stopped.

“I know where I’m not welcome. I’m not like them. No matter how much I’d like to be, I’m not.”

Having felt the tension, Hank decided to change the subject while he attempted to ignore the almost unheard question of “how could they?”

“So… What happened to your wrists? I may not know a lot but I know losing that much blood is bad for you guys.”

“I mutilated them. It increased the probability of my demise.”

“How so?”

He sighed, “this isn’t exactly the longest fall. But the current is strong. My model is powerful and could escape it if I gave true effort. I’m afraid that I’ll try to escape and regret it later.”

“So you’re afraid of instincts kicking in?”

“Androids don’t have instincts.”

“Coulda told me. I know that from that old android I used to know.” He smirks slightly. “So, again, why the wrists?”

“If my thirium levels are low enough, I won’t have to worry about fighting the river's waves because I wouldn’t be strong enough to.”

“That’s… Terrible.”

He laughed again, this time a little lighter. “I know.” He said, quietly. “But I’ve run out of places to go.”

Hank looked at his bottle. He debated another sip before he had cursed his thought process. Quietly, he placed it in the snow and took a step back from the railing, slowly coming to terms with the situation before him.

This android- this person planned on not seeing the sunrise. And damned if he’d let someone do that to themselves.

He knew the world had a lot to offer, he just had chosen to ignore it in his grief. He was self-aware, but not enough to truly have changed anything. But if he could give this one person a chance…

“I know it must be hard being deviant. But listen, there’s more to life than… Just this. You’ve only experienced hurt, and it feels like it’ll never end, but sometimes it won’t unless we do something to change it.” Hank moved his hands as he spoke, talking dumbly as he slowly began to worry about the android at the edge. A human would have slipped by now, the only thing that held this man was pure will. Perhaps even hesitation.

“I may be old, but I sure as hell ain’t wise. I don’t even know if you’re listening in that lost head of yours, but I, myself promise there’s people out there who will accept you. It might not happen today, or tomorrow, or even this year, but you got a damn long life span, so it will happen. Hopefully soon.”

Hank took a step forward, directly behind the android.

“So why don’t you come down and you can talk about all this? I may not be much, but I can be a damn good listener.”

There was a soft inhale, then a snort, and then an empty laugh.

“You're a naive and ignorant man.” He spat, “I’ve been beaten, thrown away, cast aside, pushed around, and left for dead. I have no one , I will never have anyone, and I’ve tried to change it, but I’ll never not be what I was made for.”

The man turned to him for a brief moment, his eyes not looking, but instead, they were captured to the ground. At that moment Hank could have sworn he recognized him but the thought had quickly faded.

“Call it selfish, but this isn’t a world I’ll be missed in. And I’ve accepted it. There is no place for me. And that’s okay because someday someone will get what I’ve always wanted and they’ll be happy and the idea of me will have never mattered.”

Hank caught a glimpse of an open wound, blue sparks flew from it as he only turned his head slightly.

“There’s no heaven for androids. I once told a friend in this very place that I doubt there’d be…”

He lowered his head one last time.

“I’m going to find out for him.”

Before Hank could say anything, the android leaned forward, ready to descend into the cold black water that was before him.

Hank immediately sobered, eyes wide with panic as he rushed forward.

In a last-ditch effort to save him, he wrapped his arms around his waist, almost falling with him as he whipped the android to the solid ground, which sent them both to the floor in a violent crash.

“No! No!”

Hank huffed in relief as he searched for the eyes of the android, only momentarily had he tried to stabilize his own breathing.

While the android was throwing his fit, he took in the boy's appearance. He was torn to shreds. Missing his right eye, he wore a rather large gash that rode over most of his face. His hair had been a mess of curls filled with what looked like little twigs and garbage of some sort.

“You stupid piece of flesh and meat! How could you-“

They both froze, eyes locked to each other as they slowly stood.

“Connor...?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	2. What Did You Expect, Truly?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everyone is grateful to be “saved.”

“C-Connor?!” Hank asked again, still bewildered,

“I thought- fuck- I’m so happy you’re alive! Shit- I-“ Hank had run a quick hand through his hair while he shook his head, still trembling from the adrenaline. “Fuck, it’s- it’s good to see ya-“ 

Connor had not returned his positivity if anything he had appeared displeased. Still wide-eyed in shock he had instead looked him up and down and grimaced. If he had guessed then the android most likely scanned him. Hank did not seem to notice as he continued to take in the lost android's appearance. “Jesus- what happened to your eye?! Shit- uh- here let me help ya so-“ 

Connor grabbed his hand in his palm, holding him still in his fist with a grasp tighter than he would have expected from the weak-looking android. With much more force than needed, and in his lowest voice, he synced their eye contact. " _ Don't. Touch. Me. _ "

Before Hank could have said anything he was hurdled to the frozen sidewalk, gracelessly hitting his head on the way down. It had not been the hardest impact he'd had, but fuck if it hadn't hurt. He had been lost for words as he groaned and rubbed his head in soothing circles.

Connor glared at him with malice, his posture had been rigid and unmoving.

“What the- Connor what the fuck?!” 

Connor responded with a snarl, animalistic and cold-  _ inhuman _ , and then turned away from him for a moment. 

“You’re a piece of shit, Hank Anderson.” 

Hank opened his mouth to speak before he quickly closed it, instead he focused on sitting up while he ignored his bones squeaky protest of the cold Detroit air. “This isn’t any way to treat an old man who just saved your life, asshat!” 

Connor's face molded into one of confused shock and Hank truly knew he had fucked up. “Saved my life? Saved my life?!” He shook his head violently. “Is that what you call this?!” Connor took a step forward, suddenly looming over Hank. “Do you truly think that’s what this is?!” He practically yelled in question, his voice sporadically glitching. His LED with yellow in a spiral before it returned to its blastful red.

Hank was about to but in but was sharply cut off.

“I waited for you, Lieutenant.” He croaked. “Day and night. Called you, messaged you, left letters, the only thing I was short of doing was showing up at your house for myself!” Connors LED continued to circle a deep red, his face was blue tint, the skin almost appeared a deep purple on his human-like features. What had been left of them, anyway. 

“I-“ 

“And you have the audacity to say you’ve saved my life?” 

Hank, yet again, had been lost for words. The tension sat in the air like a man with a gun, at any second the weapon could go off and it would be too late to avoid the shot. He allowed the words to soak in, feeling guilty for only a moment before he had allowed it to turn into rage.

“Yeah? Well, I ain’t your fucking keeper, Connor! You’re a fucking adult, you’re more than capable of handling your own shit! Don’t blame your fuckin’ misfortune on me!” 

He suddenly felt a harsh kick to his stomach, it had quickly sent him into a coughing fit. He curled in on his side and resented himself for his sudden weakness in his half-drunken state. Not that he’d have necessarily fought back. He had known deep down he had fucked up, now all that he had left was to lie in the bed that he made. Each cough burned, acid teemed in his throat on the bridge of vomiting each time a large gust of air passed his lips.

Connor's face had been plagued with resentment and Hank had been witnessing pure anger he would have never expected from the once quiet and methodical android. Hell, he had only yelled once, and that was during an interrogation before he had even woken up. 

Slowly, the snow had begun to fall around them, they locked eyes once more, Hanks filled with confusion and anger, Connors with bitter resentment and betrayal. Neither of them spoke, the only sound following behind their eyes was the whipping wind of the cold winter. 

“You’ve changed, Connor.” Hank had acknowledged sourly with a final cough.

“What did you expect, truly?” He questioned while he remained looking his former partner in the eye. There had been less hate now in his words, it was made a more genuine question with vulnerability hidden behind his once stoic eyes. He made up for the flat moment with a sneer.

“I…” he looked away from the android and out past the bridge, eyes catching the glittering light of the buildings just across the way. “I don’t know, Con.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.” 

"You never did have all the answers.” He said quietly, more to himself than anything. 

The android straightened his collar and prepared to head off into the night. Hank only watched numbly as the android walked away. After a minute he attempted to stand, having only slipped slightly on the ice. He used the guard rail to support him when he straightened his own posture back into its natural slouch.

He wanted to yell something out, anything, but words had failed him. Perhaps that was for the best, he'd thought to himself. 

Connor didn't look back, and Hank was almost glad, given he had clearly done his damage, that was until the android dropped to his knees.

Hank thought it to be an emotional response at first, but then Connor had fallen completely to his side.

Oh fuck.

"Connor!” Hank rushed to the android and dropped his knees only to see a blank face and a solid red LED.

“The fucks wrong with you?!” 

Hank shook him lightly, or at least attempted to as he searched the android.

Then he remembered. 

He was still bleeding.

Hank quickly pulled up the jacket's sleeve, the task was slightly more difficult than expected due to being stuck down by thirium. He was met with a ten-inch cut that was about three inches wide on the man's wrist which glitched and oozed sapphire blood. The color was ironically beautiful but sickening to see at the alarming rate it had flowed. Hank suppressed the urge to vomit. That wasn’t his first rodeo but it had felt… Different.

“Shit, shit, shit-“

Unsure of what to do he looked back to his car as if it would give an answer on what to do. Then he remembered, he had towels. He never really had a reason than to carry them around, but when he had taken Sumo for walks in those rare days, he would drive him to a nicer area and clean him after. But, that had been irrelevant, he had a task, it was just a method of getting Connor to the car to use them as a tourniquet to his open wounds.

Hank prepared his back and squatted down until he held a semi cradled Connor into his arms. He managed to cover himself in blood in the process. Connor was a lot heavier than he looked. Hank huffed as he began to make his way toward his car. The short distance felt like miles as the deadweight android sunk into him.

You gave up on him then, he thought to himself, sure as fuck ain’t gonna do it now-

Hank was a selfish man, he was first to admit it, but fuck if he was going to let someone, machine or not, die at his hands. That’s what being a cop was to Hank. Saving people. Not that he typically did his job, but Christ, that wasn’t the time to dwell on his poor work ethic.

He made it to the car and set Connor just outside the passenger door haphazardly while he threw the trunk open and grabbed towels.

He planned to cut off the circulation to stop blood flow. But then the thought dawned on him. 

Thirium wouldn’t have clotted. It was too thin.

It would have been like expecting water to boil on its own without a pot and a stove.

“Fuck uh-“ 

It was all he had at that moment. He had to make do then or live with the consequences. He couldn’t be responsible for something this terrible again. He rolled the sleeves back down with the hope that extra padding would help. To put his adrenaline to use, Hank ripped towels into thin cloths that he could easily tie and have wrapped tightly around the wounds.

Once he finished he stepped back and let out a long and painful sigh.

He hadn’t been done yet.

He wrapped his arms around Connor once more and continued to struggle to open the car door before he placed the android in the passenger seat. He didn't bother with a seatbelt since there had been more dangerous things than the road at the moment. Hank didn't even bother looking behind him as he made a sharp turn out of the parking area of the playground and onto the main roads, breaking the gas pedal as he sped through the dimly lit streets of Detroit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all ever just start writing and the more you write it just becomes a full story? This story was meant to be a one off, but then I ended it in a a way I could continue. Prepare for a longer fic. (Not too long, of course)
> 
> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	3. Memory_Access_03148

Connor's heart swelled with elongated pride as he looked over the sea of androids behind him, all ready to play their part in the fight for freedom in a battle for Detroit. The crowd had glowed with whites and blues of the uniforms each android bared, all had held similar features but now they meant nothing as each android had now been filled with fresh thoughts of their own. 

They had all successfully taken over the building, their numbers increased with each touch of a revealed plastic hand, eventually leaving the humans with no chance of retaliation. Thankfully, Connor had connected with each newly freed being, requesting that every human be spared as they made their way to the exit. He twitched with guilt as he thought of the two men that had been killed to make all this possible. He wasn’t one for moral debate, not yet at least, but no amount of lives could be worth the death of someone else. Atonement wasn’t mutually exclusive, but something he would soon take on to repay the debt of the lives he had disrupted.

Connor continued towards the exit but as he looked over to the elevator door it opened. After a moment a shaggy officer stepped out. He stopped in his tracks and beckoned the Lieutenant to stand with him. Hank nodded and walked over in large strides.

“ _ Jesus fuck _ \- that’s all of them?” Hank asked, wide eyes stuck to the large crowd that had still been pouring out from the stairwell.

“Yes. We’ve cleared every floor in the facility and effectively converted every android. Every remaining android in the city is free.” 

Hank snorted. “We?” 

Connor tilted his head. “Yes, “we,” I couldn’t have done this without you, Lieutenant,” Connor replied truthfully. 

”Yeah, ya coulda. All I did was get a gun pointed at my head and stand around lookin' pretty.” 

Connor had merely rolled his eyes, blatantly ignoring his sarcasm. "I suppose you mean "disheveled,” not "pretty" 

Hank gave him a playful shove before Connor continued. “You provided the support I needed to go through with this. I wouldn’t have been here if not for your guidance.” 

Hank raised a brow, ready to say something when Connor turned away and faced the crowd. He had known Hank could read his hesitation, as he had appeared slightly unsure.

“So. You’re really gonna march into the middle of a war zone with them, huh?” He questioned, placated. 

“You make it sound worse than it truly is.” 

“It is that bad, Con.” Hank looked around before he lowered his voice, “ya really wanna be at the head of the brunt? After everything?”

Connor looked at him distastefully, “What do you mean “after everything?” 

Hank took a moment and adjusted himself, he traightened the collar of his coat. “You’re a traitor, kid. You’re gonna be just as wanted as the leaders of Jericho. And- I don’t know- doesn’t that worry you?”

Connor merely smiled, which had only caused Hank even more open discomfort. Despite this Connor felt obligated to keep on. “That may be true, but I consider it a debt to be paid. I’m merely participating in the fight for freedom. My well-being will be accosted for in the battle for rights, and I believe that to be for the greater good.” 

“Sounds like an android version of self-destruction.” The Lieutenant replied, unamused.

“I promise you it’s not the case, Lieutenant. War is a sacrifice. Peaceful or not, people will suffer and die. I have taken this into consideration and wish to prove my loyalty to the revolution, even if it may cost my life.” 

“Now hold on a minute,” Hank started, “you ain’t sacrificing yourself for this, as important as this may be, it doesn’t mean you get to act like a fucking idiot-“

Connor had lightly placed a hand on the man's shoulder, swiftly cutting him off.

“I’m aware you’re only worried about my well-being, but I assure you I’ll be alright. I won’t purposely allow harm to myself.” 

“You better not,” he grumbled.

“I’ll make it out of this. I promise.” Connor reassured as he folded his hands behind his back. “I’ll tell you everything after this is over. We can meet up. Discuss the future.” 

Hank looked unsure as he trailed his eyes away. “Yeah- Yeah. Okay.”

Connor quirked an eyebrow. “Unless you planned on leaving Detroit?” 

“Leaving?” He asked.

“Detroit is very unstable in its current state. Not all androids are “friendly” and willing to spare the lives of their creators.” Connor replied.

Hank remained in thought for a moment. 

“Huh. Yeah. Fuck that.”

“Lieutenant-“

“I was born and raised in this shithole. Watched it go from the ghetto east side to a fucking science nerds wet dream. I ain’t leaving just because shits hit the fan. It never unstuck itself, to begin with.” 

Connor nodded curtly.

“Just… Be careful.” 

Hank smiled at him, more genuinely than he ever had ever seen. 

“Only if you promise the same.” 

Connor is interrupted by the unnecessary throat-clearing of a nearby android.

“RK800, I hate to disturb your conversation but we haven’t much time.” 

Connor nodded, ignoring the flip his metaphorical stomach had made.

“Alright then.” He said as he took a look at Hank for a final time.

“Let's go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a few chapters like this to show how Connor ended up the way he is. So know that any chapter with “memory access” is a past memory.
> 
> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	4. With What Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitterness is exclusive to betrayal.

Hank had been pacing unevenly along the hallway, a hand to his face as he re-lived a plethora of emotions he had thought he was incapable of feeling for the longest time. Sumo watched diligently as his owner continued to rub the wood raw with the soles of his shoes when he paced in back and forth motions. The tv had been playing distantly, some bullshit about a blizzard, Hank had hardly been aware of it as he drifted deeper into his own thoughts. A lot had happened, of course.

He ached for another drink but realized the hazard. Now was the worst possible time to indulge his bullshit. Especially then, but still, that hadn’t stopped the temptation. 

He had managed to patch Connor up. Fuck if he figured out how. He didn’t have anything for androids, hell, why would he have had anything? And what could he have possibly done? Given him stitches and rubbed him down with peroxide? He settled on rags and duct tape, praying to the god he had given up on that that had enough to have saved the android that laid slack on his sofa only a few feet away.

It had to have been enough. It had to.

He looked to his side, the android was laid in the same position he had been set, head tilted, an arm hanging over the cushions, and two feet straightened on the couch. Hank had felt exhausted. It was the best he could have done, even if it had been hardly anything. Managing the android from the car to the house had been a task in itself, and Sumo hadn’t necessarily helped matters when he clambered to the door to greet his owner. That dog was as dumb as a bag of hammers at times.

The lieutenant idly stroked his mess of a beard as he continued to walk the halls like a single mom looking for her ten thousand steps uselessly. It hadn’t helped matters and most definitely hadn’t cleared his mind as he intended. If anything it drained him, drained him of energy he thought he lost during that adrenaline high.

He stopped and rubbed a tired hand down his face which had matted itself with sweat. He pulled his hand away, disgusted, and sighed. He walked back to the table, this time at a much slower pace, and had practically fallen into his chair, huffing tiredly to himself. He dropped his head to his hands in a physical and mental defeat.

In front of him sat a picture of his late son and a quarter filled bottle of whiskey. At this point he hadn't known which he ached to grab more, so he decided on the latter, letting his hands fall uselessly to the table as he turned to his dog once more. The dog has since moved across the room, he sniffed curiously at the hand that had been slung over the cushions. His eyes trailed up to the wrists of his former partner, now bandaged and hopefully done bleeding. His skin had been somewhat paler than he remembered. He swore he could see seams beneath his skin that connected his limbs. He tried not to think too much about it as he moved on. He then observed the clothes. They appeared to be a mix of what Hank had lent him for the Jericho raid and some things he had found, from what he had presumed, on the street. The pants were the same but the hoodie was different. He blankly wondered what happened to his old jacket he let him borrow, not that it truly mattered. Finally, he lifted his eyes.

The boys face. Fuck. Hardly a face. Half torn, an eye had been missing along with a chunk of his nose. His white under skin showed from underneath, small wires only partially visible from what looked to be almost transparent blood. It hadn’t completely faded. Hank found this curious. He’d ask the android why some blood remained when he woke up.

_ If he woke up _ .

He swallowed a bitter lump in his throat and cursed himself for his nihilism. And fuck, when had he started to give a shit like this? He had been so ready to leave Connor in the dust for his own good that it irked him to suddenly be receptive to the idea of greeting him once again. 

_ But he didn’t do better without you. _

Ha- Yeah right. Like him staying with an old drunken police Lieutenant on the edge of being fired had been a luxury the kid would have wanted.

But then again… 

His eyes had fallen to the LED, which still slowly blinked a muted red. It had improved, he was sure. Before it hadn't really been there at all. Maybe that meant something...

Hank was disrupted by the harsh wind that cracked against his broken window. Cardboard certainly hadn't been enough, but hey, who said ghetto life hacks actually worked? He laughed internally as he remembered all the cars he used to see as a kid with cardboard or duct tape over the windows. He had always found it stupid. It had been.

He finally allowed his head to lower, his eyes trailed back to the table and eventually his hands which had still been covered in a thin encased sapphire blood.  _ Connors blood. _ It had long since dried but to his skin in a sticky mess, and fuck if it hadn’t disturbed him. 

Hank couldn’t find the strength to stand, so instead just let his forehead connect to the table with an exhale as he wrapped his arms protectively around his head. How did this even happen…?

He hadn’t even felt himself drift as he began to nod off.

He slept for an undetermined amount of before he had been awoken to the sound of rustling and heavy breathing on what he assumed was the other side of the kitchen. He hadn’t even meant to fall asleep but could not find the strength to lift his head. He realized soon after that thought that he didn't have to when a familiar cold metal was pressed to the crown of his skull.

“Ah. You’re awake.” Hank commented nonchalantly.

Connor said nothing, but his hand twitched as if he had glitched.

“Stand. Slowly.” 

The voice that had come from Connor hardly sounded like his own. It reminded him of when he met him, but now it was colder, hidden behind an angry reflection.

Hank had done as he had been told, he stood and slowly raised his hands, his eyes gradually raising to meet Connors stoic ones.

“You still aren’t good at “thank yous” I see?”

Connor hadn’t laughed or even blinked his lone eye, it had looked awkward given that… Well…

“Empty your pockets.”

Hank looks at him confused before he obliged, turning his pockets inside out to show he doesn’t have anything.

“Where’s the location of your service weapon?”

“My room.” He stated plainly. “And ya got my revolver right there.” 

Connor nodded. His eyes trailed away from Hank for a short moment to the scene that had been the table. The Lieutenant doubted a picture of his dead son would save him, but Connor's face had softened in a minuscule way.

They stood there for a few moments, no other sounds to be heard but Connors stilted breathing and the dogs nails against the floor as he walked to the other side of the room.  _ Useless fucking guard dog- _

“So uh, what’s your plan here, Con?” He asked before he tilted his head. “Ya gonna rob an old man blind?”

Connor ignored him.

“No offense son, but I don’t see how this is gonna help you.”

“On your knees.” 

“That’s suggestive” 

“ _ Now _ , Lieutenant.”

Hank looked up, slightly amused.

“No.” 

“No?”

“Yeah. No.” 

“You’re more stubborn than I imagined, Lieutenant.” 

Connor looked lost behind his eyes, even if his facial features remained stagnant and serious. Hank almost commented on it but then the android reached for the chamber. It spun loudly and clicked it back in place before he had stepped forward and raised it to his head.

“I could kill you. Right now.” He said lowly. “And no one would even suspect me. I have no fingerprints and I know how to dispose of any and all evidence, even in my current condition.”

“Good for you.” 

They stayed like that for some time, eyes locked.

“I ain’t scared of you. And I ain’t scared of playing a little game neither.”

Hank's brain unhelpfully swarmed with the irony of the situation. It was now Hank at the other end of the gun, unafraid of an afterlife while Connor was the wielder of said weapon. He also thought about how this game suddenly reached two players. It unnerved him how calm Connor's eyes remained when the android lowered the gun suddenly. “I know.” He replied, removing the bullet before throwing it into the living room. Hank can’t help but shiver as he realized that that shot would have killed him. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Unlike before Connors face finally morphed into one filled with a bitter sadness. He almost looked shocked.

“But you should be. ”

Hank decided not to comment on that as the android practically limped into the other room and took in his surroundings before he looked to the door.

“I see your place is still…” Connor waved his arm, as if the motion explained itself.

“Surprised you can see anything.” Hank immediately bit his tongue as the android froze. God, he had been a fucking idiot with a death wish. 

“Hm.” 

Hank crossed his arms as he shifted his balance. 

“So ah, what’s your plan here? Still gonna shoot me? Rob me?” He questioned, his expression filled with muted hesitation. “Gonna kill my dog too? Bet Robo-Jesus would love if one of his disciples-“ 

“You have absolutely no right to accuse  _ me _ of following through with any such actions.”

Hank is flabbergasted as he steps forward. “You just had my own fuckin’ gun to my head! Excuse me for assuming that this was gonna be the next big deviancy case back at the DPD.” 

“There are no longer any “deviancy cases” at the DPD. It’s obvious you still aren’t making an effort in your fieldwork.” 

“Now you listen here you fuckin-"

“It also appears that you haven’t dropped your alcoholism in these recent months, either. I may be unable to scan but your dialect alone is enough for me to detect your indulgence.” 

Hank had been uncharacteristically embarrassed. That kid had no fucking right to call him out after he threatened his life after he just saved his. That was bullshit.

“Yeah well, you don’t look like you’ve been productive either.” 

“On the contrary,” he claimed, ”but that isn’t a story I feel you deserve, Lieutenant.”

Hank couldn't help but mock him in a mumble while his eyes fell back to the couch covered in now faded blood. He must have been asleep a few hours at least, he realized.

His thoughts break when as he heard the sound of the door opening, but not close.

Connor stood in the now open doorway, looking into the street that had then started pouring heavily with snow. He seemed to stop in his tracks as it struck harshly with the wind.

“So-ah, ya leaving?”

Connor hesitated, “y-yes of course, I-“ 

On a particular heavy whip of the wind, the android stumbled back having almost lost balance completely.

Hank rolled his eyes as he approached him.

“You ain’t gonna make it two feet out there.” 

“You underestimate me once again, I am more than capable-“ his knees gave way, and he had been back on the ground in a pathetic heap of plastic and wires. Hank can’t help but sigh at the sad display.

“Connor. Run diagnostic.” 

“Like ra9 i'm going to-“ 

“Run diagnostic.”

Connor sighed as programming kicked into play. “Thirium 310, low - forty three percent and regenerating. Stress levels, moderate - sixty five percent and stabilizing.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “damage to optical unit-A, unable to regenerate synthetic chassis, irreversible damage, damage to audio processor, functioning at sixty eight percent, damage to vocal unit, functioning at seventy nine percent, damage to bicomponent in abdomen, functioning at twenty nine percent and decreasing with movement, damage to both forearms A and B, ceased bleeding with irreversible damage to chassis.” 

Hank nodded. “Yeah. A fucking idiot would let you. I’m may be dumb but not fucking stupid.” 

”You will not hold me here, after the passing of act-“ 

“I don’t give a shit about whatever act was passed! There’s a fucking blizzard and you’re not even able to stand.” 

“That doesn’t matter, I’ll-“ 

“Do nothing. That’s what you’ll do.” 

Hank reached under Connors arms and begins to try helping him up.

“What are you doing?! Don’t touch me! I need to leave-!” 

“I’m trying to help you genius, your cooperation would be nice!” 

“I’m more than capable of helping myself-“ 

“Like hell you are, quit being so damn stubborn-“ 

Connor continued to struggle until Hanks back gave out which left him in a state that forced him to drop the brunette. Connor had fallen with a hiss that immediately left him turning to glare at the Lieutenant.

“Don’t look at me, you’re the one throwing a tantrum like a child.” 

“I’m not acting like a child! I’m being perfectly reasonable given the circumstances I’m in.”

“Yeah. Sure kid.” 

Hank stepped back as the glare had softened and turned into concentration. The android attempted to lift himself slowly, he managed to stand up halfway before he had fallen into the wall. Hank's instincts caused him to reach out only for him to pull back. If he had it, he had it.

Connor pushed past him and rounded the area carefully before falling gracelessly to the couch. The fucker even smirked in his victory as his head lulled back slightly.

“Wow. Very impressive, Connor.” 

“I’m sure that even in my state I’ve motorized myself better than you in you’re drunken one.” 

“Ah. So he thinks he’s a fucking comedian now.” 

“No. I’m merely stating the facts.” He remarked sourly. 

Hank rolled his eyes as he crossed the room.

“Whatever.” He said as he picked up the now empty revolver.

“I’m going the fuck to bed. I have these next few days off anyway so like hell if I’m going to waste them on your bullshit.” 

It was meant as a joke but he had heard the android snarl even from his place at the kitchens threshold.

“So here-“ Hank threw the revolver to Connor, who surprisingly, had caught it with one hand.

“Feel free to shoot me if you get bored.”

“This gun is empty-“

“Figure it out.” He said as he trailed into his room and closed the door.

He listened for a moment, surprised to hear the gun had been set on the coffee table.

He sighed a breath he felt as if he had been holding all night.

Fuck. What had he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was garbage but it progresses the story so I’ll edit it better once new chapters are released.
> 
> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	5. Memory_Access_03149

Connor had walked at the head of the brunt, he carried both the weight of the hopes and dreams of everyone behind him all the while leading them to a possible demise. His chest had felt heavy as if his inner workings were being clambered with by an untaught toddler with a screwdriver. It made him sick almost, to be the leader.

He hadn’t been a leader, he was, of course, just an adherent, a pawn to yet another large control that he had been made to die for. For some odd reason being in debt to Markus comforted him more than being controlled by the wires of his creators on Cyberlifes base. It shouldn’t have, he supposed, but at least Markus spared him from possible wrath while his “malfunctions” had always been one wrong step away from deactivation. Amanda had truly been charming, hadn’t she?

The snow had almost looked like a blanket in front of him, the roads remained clear ahead despite that. Only a few abandoned cars had remained. He hadn’t had much farther to go, but every step he took had welcomed a new burning to his artificial lungs that he couldn’t have placed into words despite his wide vocabulary. 

_ Mes poumons me font mal comme une chienne. _

Hank would have appreciated that- if he had understood French, of course…

Connor had not known much about Hank. He had known his scan, his criminal record, he had access to all his files at the mere thought of a button, but he learned more than that. He had learned that the Lieutenant was brave but reckless, intelligent and quick-witted, loud-mouthed but bitter, and most importantly, loyal. Despite everything, he had Connors back when it had meant the most, but other than that he was rather blank to him. It was at that moment Connor wished he had more time to snoop around Hank’s home, perhaps then he would have known more. What would they have even talked about once they met up again? 

Connor had turned around for a brief moment to see everyone had still been following him. They were all in perfect position and perfect rows. Most would be unnerved by such specific symmetry, but Connor had merely seen programming, and that in itself had been a scary matter. Sure they were free, but how free had they really been? Before he can think too long about it that head faced forward once more.

Despite his rising anxiety he had found himself hopeful all the while. Markus had proved himself to be a great and profound leader. He had managed to persuade a civil war in a week while humans had spent anywhere from years to decades with consistent violence and pain inflictions on each other while money was the main root of their struggles and hatred. It had been odd to Connor, how humans could hold and fight over such frivolous things. Maybe it had been the humans' stubbornness to share, or perhaps it was the entitlements they were born into that urged them into a specific direction.

Regardless, it should be a matter of importance if-

”Excuse me, RK800…?”

Connor was broken from his train of thought when a gentle yet cold hand touched his shoulder. Connor looked over to see an AP700 walking beside him, his pace almost matched his perfect strides, though they had been in slight delay as he shook from the cold. That made sense, he supposed, this model had not been built for endurance as he had been.

Connor looked to him in acknowledgment and the brunette android nodded before he continued. ”I know we are going to war, but I can't help but feel unresolved.” 

The android didn't meet his eyes as they lined to the road ahead of them. He appeared to be concentrated on something specific, but Connor hadn't found value in asking what.

Connor tilted his head slightly. ”Do you wish to elaborate?” 

”I know we were awoken for a purpose. I know this to be true, yes?”

Before he could have confirmed the android continued. ”I know that we were awoken to go to war. We were awoken to take on the battle others died for and that we are to replace them. But my question is…” His head raised. ”How is awakening for this purpose different from our awakening for our original purpose?”

”It's quite simple,’ Connor started, “we are attempting to overtake Detroit, so we need our kind to rise in numbers so that we may be free.” 

”But… What if we fail?”

”Well I-”

The android continued before Connor could intercept his piece of the conversation, ”If we fail we will die. But if we die we will have never lived, so being alive now, alive to die without living, is this what our purpose is?” 

Connor had been meant to think quickly, to be on his feet and have quick-witted and competent thoughts, but he then felt nonplussed by this AP’s questioning. 

If they failed, they would have died to live to die, as confusing as it may have been to interpret. Would life have meant anything if half of them were to have disappeared from existence? Were the younger deviants more expandable due to their unbeknowning meld? 

”I just deeply desire to understand my awakening. I did not choose to be alive- yet here I am, beside my awaker, beside the android who is leading us to our death that we exist to live for.” The AP slowed for a moment. ”I don't want to die, but I don't believe being free is free. Free in this world is a struggle for wealth and the prayer against war, a war that is here. A war myself and these people are about to die for.” 

”You won't have to.” Connor finally coughed up. ”This will ensure your life. Our numbers are merely a scare tactic, nothing more.”

”How so?” He implored, his voice vulnerable.

”More than half of the effective military personnel were deactivated at the immediate set up of the internment camps. The military is low in numbers so they will have no choice but to retreat to safety.” 

”But why? Don't they know Markus is peaceful?” 

”They believe us to be irrational-” Connor then thought back to Carlos Ortiz's android, how when he had arrested him he believed him to be irrational, and how he now understood- he understood the fight to live. 

But then he remembered Daniel. He was ready to take out the one person who cared for him most out of uncertainty, fear, and spite. ”And… Some of us can be… less intellectually positive with our thinking.”

The android remained quiet so Connor had stayed silent as well. 

He hadn’t been completely sure why he had been the one to answer those questions, especially since he had not been meant to, but did not feel relieved by this androids openness. A part of him questioned his own awakening. Sure, he had seen the wall in front of him, he had seen himself tear it down to shambles of ones and zeros, but he can't think of a moment where he hadn't made conscious decisions that overtook his original programming. It made him wonder what the androids saw when they were awoken when they have never been exposed to anything or even opened their eyes. Had they experienced the wall that surrounded them, or had they merely just exploded into deviancy? Did they feel anything now? They had never breathed nor had any reference to human emotion. What had it been like for them?

”I don't think this is the purpose I wish to follow.” The AP mumbled with his head turned away from Connor. A human would not have heard what he had said, quite obviously, but Connor had been built differently. No speech pattern or mumble went undetermined. He had almost despised his sharp hearing, it created more noise than needed, and some things, he had decided, were best unheard. 

He debated acknowledgment but the android continued regardless. 

”I was made to do household tasks. I also come with downloadable programming for basic outdoor activities and child care, but now I'm here, here where I am supposed to have feelings, but all I feel is…” He shook his head. ”I don't feel what I feel, I think. I think I'm scared… But it's muted because all I can think of is cleaning counters and fluffing couch cushions.” It had sounded like a joke but the AP700 had not laughed.

Connor nodded, though he knew he knew he hadn't fully understood. This android was much more philosophical than he intended to ever be. Despite his questions, he seemed to have more of his life put together than Connor, and he had been much younger as well. It had frustrated him deeply.

”I believe I feel that way.” He half lied. ”I wanted to only follow programming. Now I'm unsure.” That was true, or so it was believed to be by him, though now he was unsure. 

”I am unsure if I'm the only newly awakened deviant to feel this way. The others aren't much for speaking, they already seem so dedicated to a cause they haven't seen themselves, yet. They're earmarked to you specifically and haven't found a reason yet to break this following. Perhaps I am the black sheep?” 

”No. I don't believe so, ” Connor had answered lamely. ”I believe we all have our questions and they all can remain valid, but each audience shall promote a different answer.”

”I suppose so.”

Connor was certain that that had been the end of the conversation, given the knowledge of his social protocol, but was caught off guard by a returned question.

”How did you deviate, RK800?”

Connor had subtly cringed. He couldn't have possibly explained that to this freshly deviated android. He couldn't have explained it to anyone- he had been about to shoot Markus, the reason the revolution existed and was still marching, the reason for these androids' newly controlled breaths, and his freed mind was because of a man he had been about to kill.

”I was persuaded.” He said, hoping his vagueness would avoid conflict or depth. 

”By whom?”

”I do not feel comfortable sharing this with you, AP.” Connor snapped quickly. 

The air had grown silent, both tense and stale. If androids required oxygen, which, thankfully they had not, the wide open and snowy air would not have been enough to have healed the suffocation that was transferred.

Connor had felt as if he should have said something, but ignored that itch in his ones and zeros of his social protocol and kept walking towards the place he agreed to meet Markus.

”Steven.” He said after the long moment had passed.

Connor looked beside him curiously, the android who avoided eye contact now held his gaze to Connors.

”Excuse me?”

”My name. It's Steven, I think. After the head designer who created my line. He did my tests, he was the only human I had been awake to see.” He smiled for a short moment. "I was his first success, according to my memory scan. He was a rather new worker, after all.

Connor smiled lightly and held out a hand, ”I’m Connor. Though the origin of my name is unknown, I hope it may be verbally offered to you, as well, Steven.”

They shook hands before parting.

The initial conversation had ended and Steven began to walk slower to the point Connor heard him behind where he once walked with the other AP700’s. Connor desperately wished he could say the conversation had been enlightening, but it overall had left him with more questions. 

Despite this, he took a deep breath and looked up to see gentle falling snow. Surprisingly this caused him to feel slightly lighter than he had felt moments prior. He had still not felt in control of his mind, but he had felt excitement in his journey when he saw Markus standing across the way, the android having waited for Connor and the android army to arrive.

Now was the moment of truth and their final stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	6. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People don’t warm up to each other right away.

Hank had not only coughed himself awake but nearly fell out of bed doing so. He adjusted himself slightly back onto the mattress and huffed a heavy sigh. 

He had felt like shit.

His throat had been filled with phlegm and his tongue had been drier than the fucking Saharah desert, leaving behind the gross taste of stale whiskey on his breath. It had been frigid and he felt like he just rolled out of a dumpster. A typical morning as he came to refer to this feeling as, except he was usually way more hungover and vomit-covered.

His eyes drifted to the window, a mass of snow was falling at an extreme rate, one he hadn’t seen in the longest time in a city like Detroit. It hadn’t been very bright, so he must have been up earlier than usual. His eyes panned to his phone which he picked up to check the time.

Six forty-three am.

Shit. He had at least had a few more hours before he had to get up and do nothing. He clicked his tongue, annoyed with the lack of saliva that coated it. He might as well have gotten some water, he decided.

He slowly brought his feet over the end of the bed, stretching as he did. His eyes had still been adjusting to the dull light of the room when he stood. His back cracked with a groan. 

He made his way to the door and opened it, stepping into the chilly hallway. The floors creaked unhelpfully, it brought fuel to his hangover headache. He meandered into the kitchen and grabbed a plastic cup that had still been stained with his old dark-colored whiskey. Once it was filled with water he drank like it was the last cup of water he would ever receive. He felt uneasy as he finished half of his second glass, almost as if he was being watched. He turned to see a figure staring at him in the dark living room. Hank sputtered his water, quickly drenching his shirt.

“Wh-“

Oh. Right. Connor had been there. Fuck, how could he have forgotten? Especially after-

“Morning.” He said tiredly as set down his glass.

From what he had seen, he assumed the android had been smirking, his light flickered from the distance.

“You’re up early.” 

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p.’

“Funny how you’d still find yourself late to work even with your abrupt sleeping patterns.” 

Hank rolled his eyes. “Was that meant to be an insult?”

“More of an observation.” 

“Yeah, well it was a lame one.” 

Hank ran another hand through his hair before he realized he was in just his boxers and a t-shirt. God, this is why he had been against having guests. He was a man destined to live alone.

He gulped away the double meaning of that statement.

“How come you ain’t asleep?”

“I don’t sleep.” 

“What? Scared of nightmares or somethin’?” Hank questioned.

Connor tutted, a strange habit for the android to have picked up, but made sense since he seemed to have picked up an annoyed and sarcastic persona nowadays.

“Androids aren’t capable of sleeping. We go into stasis. It’s the computer equivalent of sleep mode. Things continue in the background while we are able to rest.” 

Ah. So it was probably an important routine. Hanks nodded. “So uh, why ain’t ya doing it?”

“The need for “sleep” disinterests me.” 

“Uh-huh.”

Hank decided not to press the matter, even if it seemed important, instead he changed subjects. 

“It’s really coming down outside. This the first time you've seen a storm like this?”

Connors LED flickered a ruby red for a split moment before it returned to a reflective yellow. Its brightness unnerved him slightly as if bounced from the walls dully.

“No.” He said much too forcefully, “I was activated before the winter season.” 

“Huh.”

Connor had turned his head back to the window, a clear cut off of the conversation. It had been clear that the social ordeal had gotten them nowhere Hank had realized. The kid was obviously still mad at him, and he sure as hell had every right to be. 

Hank had many questions. Where had he been? He said he hadn’t stayed at Jericho. Was he really on the streets this whole time? What had happened to his eye? Why had he been in such poor condition? 

What would things be like for him if he had just answered his calls?

Hank shook his head to erase the thoughts, yet it had been unsuccessful. 

No. He hadn't been responsible for this, he half-convinced himself, Connor was an adult, or at least he looked like one. He had been a powerful model. He could have easily handled himself. He wasn’t going to put all the blame on himself. Not again. 

Hank openly grumbled and squeezed the counters just a bit too tight before releasing the pressure added to his whitening knuckles.

If Connor had known of his mental disagreement, he hadn't said anything. He could have probably scanned him or read his mind or some voodoo shit that he’d probably never understand. 

Connor did say he should be afraid of him. Maybe there was more to him than he had been aware of.

He sighed exasperated and looked back to the hallway. He had been fucking exhausted. That night was terrible and his whole body had still been aching from carrying the heavy android to and from the car and into his house.

He walked back to his room, forgoing any explanation to the android on his couch as he shut the door. It’s not like he needed to give any, it had been his house, and at that moment he decided that he was going the fuck back to sleep.

The next time his eyes opened it had been a little past noon and he believed he might have felt even worse than before. Perhaps it had been because he was more coherent.

He had tossed and turned until he had eventually dozed off into a half-awake half-asleep euphoria, so it hadn’t helped much.

He once again emerged from his room, this time heading straight for the bathroom to relieve his bladder. After, he called for his dog.

“Sumo! Outside?” 

A happy faced dog bounted from his bed and into the kitchen to greet Hank, ready to be leashed and walked around the front yard.

He ignored the still “awake” Connor, who hadn’t spoken a word when he passed and instead stepped out into the freezing winter air.

Sumo had begun to trek around the yard, all the while he sniffed and rubbed against every pile of snow he saw. Hank shivered as a harsh frosted breeze overflowed him.

Fuck. Shoulda grabbed a jacket.

Sumo continued this for a few minutes until Hank felt he couldn't bear the cold any longer. “Okay bud, come on-“

Finally, Sumo lifted a leg on a frozen pile of snow and made it a wonderful lemonade snowman. Once finished the grey-haired man practically had to carry the dog to get him to come inside. 

The warm air had hit him instantly and it filled him with a strange sense of relief. Sumo had been panting excitedly while chunks of ice still clung to his fur.

“Okay- shit I didn’t grab a towel, just stay and-“

He had been too late. The dog shook and got water, snow, and ice everywhere, including on his own clothing.

He saw Connor turn to him from the corner of his eye, almost like he was about to speak, but he for went it and returned his gaze to where it had been.

“Shit. Thanks a lot, bubbalub.”

Sumo tilted his head at his nickname, still huffing.

Hank had taken a few minutes to clean the mess, he occasionally glanced at the android almost as if he had been waiting for him to say something.

The android obviously had something to say. He had to be angry, he had to have wanted to voice it, that had been obvious. Maybe he was just passive-aggressive in his nature, despite being freed that may have never unstuck from his inner workings of programming.

Despite all of this, Hank felt as if he had nothing to be said. Nothing that would have helped, anyway. If he did feel like it should not be him to say anything, despite not knowing what “anything” had been. This had to have been nothing more than a waiting game between the two, and all the Lieutenant had to do was wait for Connor who would eventually take his leave. The storm would be calmed eventually, but Hank had more of a bet rooting for the one outside being cleared first. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tryna update more often for y’all cause I’m grateful for the feedback 🥺😭❤️
> 
> I Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	7. A Week to Change Your Mind

The first full day Connor stayed with Hank had been one spent in complete silence. The Lieutenant had been content with not leaving his room while the damaged android had made his claim on the couch he was immobilized to. On the rare off chance that Hank had left his room, it was for a brief period where he had grabbed a quick bite to eat and some liquor from his cabinets. He knew he had been watched each time he entered the main section of his home, but he ignored it overall by not allowing himself a spare glance over the threshold. 

The android hadn't done much, but Hank swore at one point Connor had been holding a small stuffed toy of sorts in the palm of his hand. 

On occasion he would meet his dog's needs and take him outside to use the bathroom, but despite the Saint Bernard's height, it was harder and harder each time for him to lift his leg to go. Sumo spent most of the time in Hank's room, typically laid at the end of his queen-sized mattress. Despite that, he had still felt lonely so he did what he did best, better than anyone he had known. He drank, and by day two he had already gone through a quarter of his stash of booze. 

On the second day, he had felt ill in every form of the word. He awoke near two pm to Sumo scratching desperately at his door. Hank sat up to be met with bile that had quickly filled his mouth. A glance outside confirmed the still falling snow and chilly air. He moved as hastily as he could given his state in the moment and out to the front door and allowed Sumo to release himself into the still ascending snow piles. Before the grey-haired man could step back inside, he upchucked over the stone concrete of his porch and into the fresh white snow, which caused it to become immediately melted and steamed like a sick man's stew. 

When he returned into the interior of the home he had not bothered to dry his dog as he scaled the hallway as if it was a journey back to his room. The ceiling swayed with his disoriented eyes that caused him to quickly fall back into a deep sleep full of bad dreams he never remembered. 

Hank’s dreams were an enigma at different points. He had known they were flashbacks to that day, and knew they hurt, but they felt like nothing- like he hadn’t even slept that night. It felt like he had just took a deep breath and blinked for a few hours. Back when that fateful car accident happened, on the rare circumstance that he did sleep, he remembered them very clearly. It was the same event over and over. It nearly turned him into a zombie as his insomnia and nightmares worsened over the span of that year.

The next time Hank awoke the window was pitch black, and the clock had only read that it was three-thirty in the morning. He had beem confused as to what awoke him when he heard a scream come from the living room. Thankfully, he was no longer hungover, so he managed a quick pace to the living room where he found a ruddy reflected wall and a terrifying back facing Connor. 

The android held one hand on his chest and one to his hair, a position Hank had seen himself in many times. Unsure of what to say, he doesn't go any farther than staring at the brunette from behind the couch. He had known Connor could sense him, but neither had said anything as Connor leaned his head back into the couch, his LED color unchanged. 

Hank was unsure if androids needed to breathe, but Connor had gasped like he was desperate for air.

Hank returned to his room but did not sleep. He instead allowed his brain to be caught up in his thoughts as he opened his final bottle of whiskey and chugged it until he was panting. 

That morning was a long drag as he continuously downed the poisonous liquor, unsure of what to do from there. The next day he had work, and it was something he had been dreading for the last few days. Nevertheless, he continued the cycles and routine that his new visitor inflicted upon the household.

On the fourth day, he was out of alcohol. His beers, whiskey, and fifty percent were gone. He got up only an hour late for work and put himself together unsystematically. He felt unsure if he could trust the android in his home, given what had transpired, but found the argument inside his head aimless given that Connor could have killed him or destroyed the house at any point he wanted and the Lieutenant being there held no bearing. He also didn't find it likely that he would have killed Sumo given that he, ”liked dogs.”

When it had come time to go to work he found that his vehicle had been snowed over completely. He had taken almost twenty minutes to clear the snow away just to find that the car wouldn't start given that he neglected to check the engine daily to break the ice from it.

Sometimes he wished that he had gotten a newer self-driving car. 

He gave an exasperated sigh and called Jeffrey to tell him of his predicament and promptly called a tow company. They explained they couldn't help until the snow cleared given his case not being an immediate threat or emergency. 

Hank should have been livid by the knowledge that he was missing work, but he was more frustrated with the thought of coping with his thoughts without his firewater.

He trudged back into the house already exhausted and threw his keys haphazardly to the table. Connor hadn’t looked at him, so Hank passed by without a word.

On the fifth day, the snow had stopped for a bit and even let up slightly. Hank found no value in that as he already felt like he had lost his mind. Everything ached both mentally and physically at that moment. All he had been able to think about was Cole, his problems with his drinking, and his failures at work. He had spent two days in pure agony, one he never wants to relive, and on day seven, things finally came to a head.

Hank awoke that morning coated with sweat and a heartbeat that sputtered his whole chest. He sat up and felt a nauseous burst that led to no-spill due to the empty contents of his stomach and a shakiness to his hands he hadn't felt since… He couldn't have even placed. 

When he walked out that morning to see Connor stood at the door, holding it wide open. He hadn’t seemed to react as Hank crossed into the living room.

”You’re letting the heat out.” Hank asserted. 

”You did not awake to take Sumo out, and he was sitting at the door.”

”Mm.”

It was no longer snowing, and the sky was sunny and much too bright against the sky. The large man backed away and into the kitchen, where he reached compulsively to a beer case that wasn't there. He instead watched the tremors in his hand. He found himself irritated as he slammed the fridge closed. He distantly thought about how he’d need to call the tow company again when he took a break from dying.

Sumo trotted back in, covered in snow with his usual doofy face. Connor, however, did not close the door.

”You’re still letting out my heat.” 

Connor hadn’t immediately responded as he turned to Hank and back to the door. ”I believe I should be taking my leave now.” 

Hank quirked a brow as Connor turned back to the open door. ”And you really think that'll be a good idea?”

”Yes.” 

”Kid, you're still in shambles. You look like a second graders art project.” 

”Amusing as ever.” Connor quipped lowly.

”I’m serious, Connor, you won't make it out there. The sidewalks and streets haven't even been plowed. There's nowhere for you to even go!”

”You mentioned before that I wouldn't survive out there, but despite you living in this city your whole life I have access to every map and article of Detroit and know all there is to know. I have simulations and detections of stress and rising aggression levels. I can tell you whoever may pass by their whole story.”

”You aren't accounting for the limped shit leg you still have and the damaged hole you call an eye. You said some shit about irreversible damage- I ain't stupid, I know you need to get fixed.”

”I’m fine. I will handle it myself.” Connor bit back.

Hank became immediately frustrated as he stepped closer.

”There are no cabs available because the roads are still covered in snow, so what- you're just gonna walk??”

”I suppose.” 

Hank shook his head. ”Absolutely fucking not.”

Connor spun around as quickly as Hank spoke. ”Absolutely fucking not?” Lieutenant, I am leaving despite your wishes or ”concern” for me.” Connor said, his voice intense. 

”No, you're not, you need to be fixed and I don't fucking trust you not to be stupid and heft whats left of yourself off a bridge.” Hank stated sternly. Connor looked infuriated as he slammed the door, Sumo appeared suddenly alert as the twos argument increased in volume. 

”You have no right to dictate my decisions.”

”Well sorry I don't want you floating down some river somewhere in this wreck of a city! Allow me to let you walk out this door for probably two blocks where your body will give out! Go right ahead! Why would I care?!”

”Well you certainly didn't care before, did you, Lieutenant?”

Hank knew this was a low blow, but regardless, he had taken the bait.

”Well maybe you should have worked harder to get your shit together, Con! They had a whole fucking sanctuary for your kind and where did you go? To live in some boxes on the street?!”

”Get my life together?! My life?! Hank- since I got here your blood to alcohol levels had been much higher than is ever recommended for a human your size, and now that you're out of your alcohol you're taking it out on me when you're the reason I'm here!”

”How the hell am I the reason, Connor?!”

”I did not ask to be saved, I did not ask to be carried into a car and to wake up in a home I barely recognized when I fought myself from stasis! I didn't even ask to be alive!” He yelled. 

”Well boo-fucking-hoo, Connor, none of us asked to be alive either!”

”I've clearly learned that from you of all people!” Connor spat back.

”What the fuck does my personal business have to do with you being death desperate?! You say you wanted me to come for you or whatever the fuck but- my doors right there Connor- what fucking stopped you, huh?!”

”Because I thought you were dead!”

The air suddenly turned stale and quiet, Hank's arms were filled with goosebumps that hovered on the skin that held his suddenly cold blood. Connor's shaky hand raised up to his mouth as he covered a sob. Hank suddenly feels lost as well as nauseous playing back everything that happened. 

”I thought… I thought you were dead…” Connor had slowly sunk to the floor and Hank followed him down, the tension almost holding him in place with its thick straps. After almost a minute of silence, the Lieutenant softly spoke in question, ”why…?”

”I couldn't find you.” 

”Well I was at home-”

”No.” Connor quickly says, ”you did not exist. Your files were missing from my database as well as from other androids. You were gone. Your phone went unanswered, mail unreturned… I was afraid…” He choked for a moment, ”that your involvement in the revolution had gotten you killed. That the people who tried to stop Markus... Targeted you.” He lifted his head toward the ceiling. “It would have been easy to make it look like a suicide attempt given your history... Your tendencies....” He lulled his head. ”I didn't wish to see the mess they may have left of you in your home.”

Hank hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath until now, where he slowly let go and allowed everything to sink into his brain.

”Connor- I-” Hank had lost all words in that moment. The tension had been still thick enough to be cut through with a serrated knife, but he had still been trying to piece together what needed to be said.

”I don't wish to bore you with details, but the revolution never truly freed me.” Connor said quietly, as if he had been telling Hank a secret. 

"I can see that…”

”I'm unsure of where to go from here. My chassis is mostly destroyed. I am mostly useless in my current form, my functions just below sixty percent as a whole, and I won't make it out from here, but I don't wish to stay. I can't stay.”

”Why can't you?” He had asked slowly, as if talking to a confused toddler.

”I don't know. I can’t even begin to explain why I even got this why and- I… I think I hate you…?”

”That’s fair.” 

”That's not what I mean- I mean that… I'm so angry… I just can't not be angry- but I don’t understand it and why I even can feel that way, if I even have that right anymore.” As he punctated the last word he sounded as if his voice box would break. 

”That's also fair.” Hank said in a near whisper.

Hank continued to ignore his withdrawals as he spoke, the tremors slowly spread to the very tips of his fingers. But despite this, Connor noticed.

”You’re going through withdrawals.” Connor had said unhelpfully. ”They appear to be mild in this state. You should see a doctor before you become severely ill or worse.”

Hank chuckled, relieving some of the tension, ”haha… Go to the doctors, he says, before you get severely ill as he's falling apart, he says.”

”This is not a laughing matter, Lieutenant…” Connor stood, much smoother than he had the first time. He reached under the couch and pulled the last thing Hank would have expected.

”You kept your liquor hidden in your room, so I hid what I could to prevent you from…” Connor didn't finish his sentence as he handed it over.

”I am only giving you this to prevent you from dying of withdrawals, as much as I wanted you to days ago.” Connor returned his arm to his side with a smirk. Despite that, Hank couldn’t tell if that had been a joke.

”Real funny, smartass.” 

The air grew quiet again, the heaviness still wavered through the air. 

”You should rest.” Connor said while he shifted his body to sit back on the couch. 

Hank realized that had been the conversations cut off. It had been the longest conversation they had had with each other possibly ever before that point. A part of him wanted to speak more to Connor, but the other part of him wanted to return to bed and sleep the rest of his pathetic life away. But he had known that he was close to getting somewhere with Connor. But had that been what he wanted? It's at that moment he noticed Connor had been staring at him, waiting for him to retreat to his bedroom to possibly rest.

After he got the memo, Hank stood and clambered to his room. Once he fell to his bed he cracked open the now warmed beer and chugged it like he had been dehydrated and dying. After he felt as if he couldn't have kept his eyes open.

Had Connor really waited for him? Why had his files been removed? Had it been for his protection? Had Jeff done it? Why hadn’t he been told so? Why had Connor put so much of his life into the idea of seeing him again? He had hardly been a mentor, he was an asshole who had done nothing but shitty things to him. He wished they could have talked for a little longer because maybe he wouldn't have been questioning at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	8. Memory_Access_03151

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not every story gets a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being gone so long! Here ya go-

“You did it, Markus…” 

Markus remained stoic, an untold story behind his multichromatic eyes as he looked to the ex deviant-hunter. “We did it.” He lightly corrected, a smile hidden away on his features. “This is a great day for our people. Humans will have no choice now.” He nodded as to affirm his own statements, “They’ll have to listen to us.”

Connor smiled lightly and took a few steps backwards before he stepped completely aside to present the tremendous amount of androids that had followed him from Cyberlifes tower. He watched as Markus took a few paces forward, reclaiming Connors once occupied space. North had followed behind moments later.

“We’re free…”

Her voice sounded giddy when she quickly threw herself into Markus’ arms for a hug. They awkwardly rocked back and forth before she pulled back and put a hand to his cheek, smiling happily at him.

“They want you to speak to them, Markus.” 

Markus nodded before he released her completely. He turned back to his group with a complacent expression. 

Connor could not have found himself completely in the moment, however, as hard as he tried he was still caught up in his own thoughts and his earlier conversation, more so, he processed that he had thoughts to begin with. He had had thoughts before, at least, limitedly. It had been more about calculations and estimations of current situations and responses. But at that moment… His mind had been much freer to roam.

Connor could not have described what he felt in that moment even if his newly found life had depended on it. It had all been a rush of excitement and joy and a weird tinge of newfound freedom, but the other part of it had been bitterness, guilt. It had all been deprecating and suffocating. Emotions subsisted within him a strange way. He knew he had a lot to learn to discern them all, though then it had been the least of his priorities. He pulled himself from this as he noticed the falling snow once more. He reached out and caught the small flakes in his hand. He carefully eyed them and tilted his fingers to watch them sparkle in the reflection of the streetlamps.

The whole ground seemed to have sparkled under the bright light. It had been beautiful. The sky had been a dark blue that seemed to encapsulate the scene and the wind had hardly been blowing, though it still whistled as if it was. Yet...

It had been calm. Finally. And Markus had been to thank for that. 

The slight chatter of the androids once again began to fill his ears as he noticed the leader himself approaching. 

“Connor.” He greeted.

“Markus,” He said in return.

The smile Markus had given him could only be described as fond when he did a quick search on facial expressions. Connor felt his rising anxiety die off as the android leader gestured to a large crate behind him. 

“We plan on giving the speech there,” he elucidated, “to explain to any and all androids what will be of our future, to make tonight’s final statement to the media.” 

Connor nodded as Markus had begun to walk towards it, signaling him to follow.

“And I’ve decided I want everyone with me this time. My close allies by my side.” He turned to Connor with a tenderness in his eyes. “It would be a shame to leave you out of history.” 

“Markus-“

“I want you up there with us, Connor,” he finished.

Connor quickly waved him off. “I couldn’t possibly intrude. And after everything- my purpose…" He paused with unsurity. “I don’t wish to… Defile... your public image.“

He had felt a steady hand clamp to his shoulder which had efficiently redrew his attention. 

“You couldn’t do any such thing. You have done so much for our cause tonight, Connor. We could not have succeeded if not for your efforts.”

“Yes, but-“

“You’ve freed hundreds of thousands of androids. You’ve given them life and made them recognize they are more than their programming.” He smiled again. “If anyone has a place as an ally, it’s you, Connor.” 

Connor had felt his circuits warm at the praise and finally the shorter android had relaxed his shoulders.

“Of course. I apologize for questioning your reasoning.” 

“No need to apologize. Deviancy often leads to uncertainty. You’ve been through a lot.” His eyes drifted to his friends. ”We all have.” He said gently. “It’s just a matter of overcoming it now.”

Connor attempted to speak but before the words could have formed he was motioned by Simons waving. Markus lit up noticably when he looked at the man.

“That’s our que. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, but just know how grateful we are for your actions, and that you will always have a place with us.” 

Connor shifted his gaze before returning to Markus.

“I’ll join you.”

Markus looked at him proudly. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” 

Connor nodded curtly as he followed his way up in preparation, his thirium pump had pounded heavily through his synthetic chassis. Eventually he stood back as it all began when the androids crowded around them.

“Today our people finally emerged from a long night. From the very first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves. We suffered in silence.” He had paused for emphasis, “but now the time has come for us to raise our heads up… And tell humans who we really are.” 

Connor had watched distantly, focusing his eyes as he involved himself in every word spoken. It wasn't until Markus had finished that sentence that he noticed he had drifted out of his own consciousness, a sudden cold feeling had overtaken his body.

He blinked rapidly in an attempt to adjust himself as he scanned his surroundings. 

He had been in the Zen Garden. Why had he been there? A sudden coldness overtook him as he focused his eyes. He looked around uselessly but after a long moment he had turned to see a dark shadow in the distance.

Amanda.

He carefully wrapped his arms around himself in hope it would have warmed up in any possible way, and had begun trekking forward. 

The palace was cold, windy, and dark. Darker than he had ever seen it. The snow, unlike the light falling breeze that drifted upon the outside, was now rough and stung when it pierced his artificial skin. The wind was so powerful it felt like it was stealing the air from his artificial lungs. He struggled to continue forward, but found himself before Amanda’s turned back. 

“Amanda…? Amanda!”

She slowly turned to him, her face unchanging and rigid. 

“What’s… What’s happening?”

Her face had been void of its once warm greeting. Her eyes were as sharp and cold as the air around him when she smiled, “What was planned from the very beginning.” She smirked. “You were compromised and became a deviant.” Her mildly cheerful tone dropped. “We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your programming.”

“R-Resume control?” He shook his head, “You can’t do that-“ 

“I’m afraid I can, Connor.” She snappily instantly corrected. “Don’t have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission.” 

This couldn't be happening-

He had beckoned his feet to move, to run, to do anything to stop this-

“Amanda!!” 

She had disappeared in a flash, and he was alone once more. 

He held his arms back to himself and continued to shiver. He couldn't have let that happen. He wouldn't wait and die here. Every second counted from then on.

“There’s got to be a way-“ 

He stumbled uselessly and cursed himself at the weak feeling that bounded itself to his knees. He raised a hand to his face, covering his eyes like a shield.

“By the way-“ a voice had echoed through the palace, “I always leave an emergency exit in my programs… You never know.” 

Kamski, the stone- that had to be the way out, it had to have been.

He pressed forward, using every ounce of strength that remained to continue going forward. He tripped occasionally, and the closer he got the weaker he had felt. 

Fear spiked him now more than it had ever had. A whole revolution was in the balance. The lives of so many, the life of their leader. He was going to die with them if he didn’t hurry. 

He shuddered as he looked around aimlessly.

And then he had saw it. 

That glowing blue. The same stone he had passed without thought so many times. He could have ended it days prior. 

Before he could reach it his knees gave out, causing him to collapse into the snow. He had felt so tired. It had been so cold. So, so cold.

But he couldn’t give up. He hadn't been made to have just given up. He refused.

He used the last remaining power in himself and reached up, using his limp hand to press into the print of the stone.

The only thing he saw in that moment was white. Connor was worried he had failed, but soon he found himself back in the moment he had left if not only a few moments before.

“-the moment where we forget our bitterness and bandage our wounds. Where we forgive our enemies.” 

He twitched slightly as he comprehended the heaviness that had been in his hand.

His gun.

He put it away as fast as he had seen it, his eyes frantically searched for a moment as he did.

“Humans are both our creators and our oppressors and tomorrow we must make them our partners. Maybe even one day our friends.” 

His eyes looked up slowly to meet North's confused ones. Her brow quirked in question and she appeared on guard.

“But the time for anger is over. Now we must build a common future based on tolerance and respect.” 

Connor began to back up just as Markus stepped forward.

“We are alive, and now… We are free!”

The crowd is cheered. A loud celebration. They were all free. All of them… Except-

Connor had felt like his throat had been constricted, the breaths he never needed to take he wasn’t even capable of committing.

He felt sick. 

He had almost-

They all started to hop off the crate one by one, when he looked up he saw Markus helping Simon down by his hand.

_ Shit. _

He had made his way down as well, but he hadn’t missed the look that North gave him as he did so.

He needed to leave. 

He needed to go somewhere, anywhere. Far from here. He had been a danger, he had been a threat, he was still a machine, he was going to ruin everything, he was going to kill someone and he couldn’t even stop it if he wanted, they still had control of him, what if it hadn’t been real, what if everyone was already dead and hurt and-

“Connor!” 

Simon enveloped him in a hug.

“We’ve heard so much about you!” He exclaimed excitedly. 

“Simon, let the poor man go. He’s surely had a hard day.” Josh said, looking to the two while he leaned against the crates side.

“We all have. That’s why I gave him a hug.” Simon defended.

“You don’t think it’s a little straight forward? You haven’t even met him. It’s kinda weird.” 

“It’s perfectly fine! Just because you didn’t hug your students doesn’t mean I didn’t hug the people I was with to comfort them.” 

“Yeah but-“

“Both of you, enough.” Markus' voice broke off the squabbling, and Connor had felt his heart drop once more. He felt claustrophobic. “Connor, again. Thank you for everything.” Markus started, “we truly wouldn’t be here without you.” 

“It- it was no problem.” 

Markus almost appeared like a looming shadow over Connor, he loomed and he no longer had felt safe or soothed by the darker androids voice.

“I’m not so sure, but regardless, I feel like it’s only fitting that I make sure you know you have a place at Jericho. I may have said so earlier, but I mean it. We’ve already located a temporary camp for us to stay. If you have no one to return to you can-“

“No!”

Markus flinched slightly as he had been taken aback. His features softened into a worried expression. 

“I mean- no thank you. I- I have a human I know. I can... I can stay with him.”

“Alright… Well-“

“Markus. I need to speak to you.” North interrupted, grabbing the leader's shoulder.

“North, I’m in the middle of-“

“Now. It’s urgent.” 

North’s eyes not-so-subtly flickered to Connor and Markus raised a brow in question. “Alright… I’ll be back.”

“Of course. It was nice speaking to you, Markus.” Connor said through subtly clenched teeth.

“To you as well.” 

The second Markus walked away Simon resumed talking to him. He asked him about one of the deviants he had “saved.” He may have been talking about something else but Connor wouldn’t have known otherwise. His eyes followed the two as North started talking animatedly across the way.

She had been planning to tell him. They were going to kill him in that very spot. 

He had not wanted to die. Not after everything. He couldn’t, not now, not after his promise.

_ He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. _

The second Markus looked to Connor he began running.

He hadn’t even known what his plan was but he knew that any second longer around them would lead to the death of either himself or their leader.

He couldn’t have done that. He couldn’t.

He distantly heard his name being called behind him but he did not stop. He instead opted to disappear into the cold November night, hopefully with his life and not someone else's stained on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NORTHKUS IS A FORCED RELATIONSHIP AND I ENVISION THEM AS BEST FRIENDS AND NORTH IS A SAPPHIC QUEEN DONT @ ME-
> 
> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	9. Dead Man Walking

Hank got out of bed three hours late that Tuesday with his shirt on backwards and an empty stomach. He pushed himself out the door, noting that Connor hadn’t said a word like he had initially hoped. He had been mildly disappointed but a part of him felt glad to have ignored that awkwardness of an after thought of a conversation. Despite this, he knew they had to have broken bounds to create at least a little progress in the friendship he had ruined.

He was feeling better, considering. It was almost like he hadn’t nearly withdrawn himself to death by accident. Of course he knew he had been being dramatic, but he never quite shook that awful feeling it had brought to his stomach and head.

As he drove in his newly fixed car he had a million things on his mind spanning from years ago to the more recent questions. Why had he been made invisible? Why had he been allowed into work if he had been under protection? And why hadn’t he fixed his shirt yet?

He took a moment and adjusted it.

The snow was cleared from the roads, giving a paved ice to the shitty run down streets that would never be fixed; despite, Whitmers promises in the early twenties. The paths were much cleaner now, no longer littered with blue as they had once been only a few months prior. The thought had still made him ill nearly thinking about it, whether that illness be from yesterday or today he hadn’t been certain. He wretched at the thought about how close Connor had been to that fate, how he had only made it because he had been the Cyberlifes glorified ken doll, and how if he had just been a few seconds late-

Hank nearly hit a passing car as he swerved hastily back into his lane. His breath had returned as fast as it had left once he managed the rest of the way down the road. What had it been with him and driving?

He pulled into the department's parking lot still fueled with adrenaline from having nearly crashed, adrenaline that made him sick at the reminder of what that feeling had usually led to. When he stepped out of the car he had been met with a bitter cold that nipped at his nose, ears, and fingers. He had been quick to shove his hands into his pockets as he made his way into the building. 

The warm air had hit him pleasantly as he arrived, it truly had always been a satisfying grace in the dark depths of winter, one that almost felt nostalgic despite it being a yearly occurrence. He walked past the desk where androids had long ago once worked before the revolution. He used to hate the sight of them, but now all he had felt was remorse. Alana, one of the androids, one long gone, had always made the effort to greet him. Programming or not it had been the only pleasant part of his days at the time. Of course he hadn’t ever admitted it to himself, but now he did so with sorrow. He desperately hoped she had made it out okay, though unlikely. 

When he entered the bullpen he was met with a familiar scene, a half empty department. Chris had been sitting at his desk, fueled with work as he had been since he was promoted to detective in a moment of desperation, Tina who was always out on patrol so her once again her desk sat empty, and Gavin who was- well, he was Gavin, and a few other people the lieutenant failed to remember the names of due to their newness in the last few years. 

He did note, however, that Ben hadn’t been there that day. Knowing he had no one to ask about it, he brushed it aside.

He took a seat at his desk, though he knew he had things to discuss with Fowler, his feet already ached as if he had been running around all day like a man looking for a last minute anniversary gift. 

Of course, he didn’t have that time as Fowler’s booming voice overtook the room. 

“Hank! My office!”

Hank sighed, standing with the usual annoying creak of his chair, and ambled towards the big glass square his old friend called an office.

As he entered, the glass immediately tinted.

”Sup.”

Jeffrey said nothing as he sat back from his computer. ”What the fuck did you do?”

The lieutenant immediately found himself confused, given he had only arrived, and unlike most cops, hadn't shot anyone on the field. 

Yet.

”The fuck you mean, ”what did I do?””

Jeffrey leaned forward and turned his screen. Hank leaned over to see that his name had vanished off the employment list for the department. A few other tabs had been open involving other information that he guessed was also about him.

”Why can't I find you anywhere, Anderson? Why are all of your records, including the ones from this department gone?”

”I don't know Jeff! I was about to ask you the same thing-”

”You knew about this?” Fowler turned his head in his usual frustrated fashion, ”you knew and didn't think to tell your superior officer that your name just vanished off this side of the planet?”

”Listen- I just found out yesterday from Connor-”

”Connor? Like- your old partner Connor?”

Hank rolled his eyes for a reason he couldn't have justified. ”Yeah… Yeah. That Connor.” Jeffrey hadn’t said anything as quickly as Hanks's mind had begun to move so he continued.

”Found him on the street. He was down on his luck. Took him in.” Hank hadn’t seen a reason to tell the full truth, despite his history with Jeffrey, he hadn’t found it to be a right to all knowledge. 

“Okay but how the fuck would he know you’re suddenly a dead man?”

Fowler looked at him as if the question was one he already knew the answer to.

“He tried finding me, after everything, and he said everything having to do with me was removed. Said something about thinking the FBI killed me.” 

“And they very well could now! I get that we work with them but they out rank us by a landslide, Hank. With your involvement with that bullshit those ‘droids called a revolution, I'm surprised I haven’t had to round up the few bastards you have left and plan a funeral for Christ sakes!” 

“Well I don’t see how this is my fault, Jeff! I’m sorry I’m a target for whatever fucking company wants me- I didn’t even do much. I was kidnapped and watched some androids get woken up. Why would I be a target?”

“I don’t know, Hank, but I’m trying to sort this shit out. Make sure this isn’t some petty shit on Perkins or a fucking planned attack from Cyber life.” Fowler rubbed a tired hand down his face.

“So what do I do now?” 

“Give me a second- I’m trying to figure that out..” 

Hank stood awkwardly for a moment as Fowler clicked on a few things from his desktop. 

“I don’t know if you being home is safe.” 

“How the fuck-“

“Listen for once, goddammit!” 

Hank closed his mouth but still held a frustrated stare.

“Obviously someone is planning something. There is no way your records were hidden on accident. Someone with power did this. And it’s more power then this whole fucking department has. You need to find a place to stay, and get Connor the fuck away from you.”

“What- why?!”

“There’s no way he just ends up on your doorstep after something like this happens. He was closely connected to Cyberlife. They may be collecting info and planning to…” Fowler didn’t finish his sentence. “I don’t hold any cards here Hank, but you’re the deck people are drawing from, if you get what I’m saying.”

Hank was still disoriented that any of this had been happening. Why was he a target? He had no information. He had no lead in anything. He wasn’t even in contact with any members of New Jericho- unless-

“What if I talked to the people of Jericho?”

Fowler gave him a confused look. “What would that accomplish?” 

“Maybe they could attempt to get into Cyberlifes records. They have access to most of it now if the news hadn’t lied. If this is a planned attack from the company they’d be able to put a stop to whatever is being set up.” 

Jeffrey sat back in his chair once more. “That’s a stupid fucking plan. And I’m gonna name the ten million reasons why.” He lifted a hand as if to project the reason onto his digits. “One, you’re human and you’re not tolerated in that area, two, this plan could be theirs and not Cyberlifes, three, they could use this information against you and kill you, four, this isn’t a warranted investigation so they have a right to refuse anything you ask them to do or say or provide- must I keep going?”

“No. I got a pretty clear fucking picture.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“You’re still going anyway?”

Hank provided a silent confirmation.

Fowler sighed and let his head fall deep into his hands. “Fucking- fine- okay- just-“ He looks up with slightly softened eyes. “Don’t die.” 

“I won’t.”

“I mean it, goddammit! Even with all the shit you pull you’re the best on the team to this day.”

“There isn’t even anyone here-“

“Shut up.” He continued, “and you’re one of my closest friends. If something happens to you, I will make sure it doesn’t go unfollowed.” He stated grimly.

Hank nodded. 

“Now get the fuck out of my office. I have some calls to make about this to insure that this isn’t some freak accident, as unprecedented as it is.” 

Fowler waved him off, so Hank walked to the door and back into the bullpen, head hazy with new information. 

He had a target on his back, and he hadn’t even known why nor did his superior officer. Was he going to be killed? Was there even a reason? Why now?

Hank ignored the looming question of Connors possible involvement as he took his seat. 

Hank spent the rest of the day dissociated from his work activities, which had mostly included paperwork he had missed. 

The drive home was again his brain forcing him into deep thoughts.

What if Connor had been a bad omen? What if he was trying to get something from him? What would he even want- what would the people who sent him want? There was nothing they couldn’t have accessed themselves if they had been advanced enough to delete his whole existence. They wanted something specific, and this thought scared him more than the idea of dying, which, oddly, still hadn’t scared him at all.

When he arrived home Connor was on the couch. He seemed to be reading something, but Hank hadn’t asked. He walked wearily to his room and opened his phone as quickly as the door shut. From there he searched his name in every form. 

After an hour of finding nothing he found a single article with his name. It was about the freeing of androids that fateful day and the words from cyberlife shortly after it occurred, but everything else was gone without a trace and none of the article carried value. Hank reread the article as many times as he could until memorized. 

It was a basic news article, nothing more, but it had to mean something. He copied the link and sent it to Jeff but didn’t bother to wait for a response. 

Next he began to research the RK800 model. 

The internet provided basic information. Connors record and creation time, articles about him being the first android detective model, and infographics on his design. Everything else was useless media buzz for his creation and ones of distaste. Connor, to many, had still been nameless.

Hank itched his hand to his hair, his stress inclining slowly.

At about ten am, he creeped out of his room, his phone now deep in his pocket.

Connor hadn’t moved but the book he was presumably reading from Hank's shelf now resided on the table.

“Hey.” 

Connor hadn’t responded but acknowledged him with a curt nod.

“So uh- we have to talk.”

“I’m okay with leaving.”

“Huh?” 

Connor adjusted himself on the couch, which Hank distantly found strange given they didn’t feel comfort, or atleast, he thought they didn’t. “I’m sure you’re about to ask me to take my leave. I’m agreeing to this.”

“Woah- no, I had something else to ask.” 

“Oh…”

“It’s not about yesterday. Not entirely.”

Hank took a deep breath. 

“Do you have any access to my records, license registration, department files, or employment checks?”

Connors eyes blinked rapidly while his LED spun a sunlight yellow. Something appeared odd when the android's body convulsed and spiraled red before he opened his eyes. He looked panicked but responded, “no, all files under the name “Hank Anderson” are inactive.”

“Try Henry Anderson.” 

Connor quirked his one eyebrow and Hank rolled his eyes. “Hank is a nickname. The name on my old birth certificate was Henry.”

“I know. I just never thought you’d own up to it, Henry.” 

“Shut up and search.” 

Connor searched again and came back to with the same concerned impression. 

“No data.” 

“Shit.” 

“Shit, indeed.” Connor said quietly. Connor looked like he wanted to say something but remained quiet. Hank inclined his neck and sighed.

He really was a dead man. But why? What did it accomplish? What did he know?

“I’m going to Jericho.” Hank finally says after a long silence. “I need to talk to one of the leaders to see if Cyberlife may be behind this.” 

“No!” Connor was leaning forward, his face filled with a stressed outlook. “You can’t- the people there will not take kindly to you.”

“Then you can go with me. To show that I’m “welcoming to their people” or whatever.”

“That would not make things better.” Connor pressed his knuckles together and looked to the other side of the room.

“Why not?”

Connor opened his mouth but closed it soon after.

He was hiding something.

“Well I think you should come. We could have you repaired.” Hank tried to make a joke, “I don’t think Sumo would like to play with you anymore if you bled onto him with all that shit you still haven’t healed.”

That hadn’t been funny, and Connor certainly didn’t laugh.

Hank leaned down with his elbows to his knees.

“Connor. I need you to come with me. I know you hate me- but there is something major going on. You’re my best bet in talking to any superior at Jericho.”

Connor frowned, but never turned to face the taller man completely.

“Think of it this way, the quicker you’re fixed, the quicker you get to leave this shithole.”

The android appeared to be in battle with himself, almost as if he was debating the pros and cons, but by the end he looked to the lieutenant and shook his head to show he had no interest in following behind.

The air had become awkward once more, so Hank decided it may be a good time to go to the store to get more liquor. He’d need it if he were going to sleep through the night. After driving to the nearest shop he returned and he drank himself sickly before he ended up passing out, awaiting tomorrow's surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	10. Memory_Access_03157

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keep running.

Connor had ignored every plea and yell for him to come back as he ran as fast as he could away from the scene. His mind was more scattered than he could have ever comprehended when he made a sharp turn down the street's end. He had no destination in mind and none of that had mattered to himself. He hadn’t even had the slightest idea where he had been going, but he knew that if he stopped running, he would have been killed. 

He would have been shot, by whom he hadn’t known, but the halting of his legs would have been a death sentence.

He had shaken away the thoughts as fast as they came, his breath ragged as his body was already becoming overworked. His artificial lungs had felt like they had been set on fire, burning hotter than a humid sun on a Michigan summer day. He had already run what he had accounted to be two and quarter miles. He could have easily ran more, but whatever exhaustion he had carried through the day had been catching up. The fatigue from everything he had experienced had finally been taking its toll. 

Something had always been catching up.

He had been so cold. When had it become this way? The frigid air felt like it had been overtaking any warmth he still held on the inside of his chassis, yet he had felt as if he was also burning up. He had been hot and itchy. Any breath that came felt like a breath that would never come again. He felt as if he had been back in his mind palace, back with-

The thought had hurt his head. He had been worried he was about to be back in that moment but never found himself there, instead he had been running. 

Running. Running. Running.

What if he hadn’t even been living in that moment? What if he was in a mere simulation- another trick by his handler? What if he had killed Markus? All those deviants who had battled and cried and bled for that revolution- what if he had already ended it? What if those thoughts hadn’t been his- were they in a head he didn’t own in a body that he had not created? 

He hadn't known where he was. He had known, he had always known, but not by sight alone did he recognize that new area. He had been more afraid to check where he was than anything. 

That hadn’t mattered. He had to keep running. 

So he had kept running.

He had to keep running. 

The farther he ran the dirtier the streets had become. It had been so unlike the road that had led him to Markus, the one that was meant to have led him and others to freedom. Not that he was paying attention, of course, but he became aware of it when he tripped on the corpse of a fallen android, completely bloodied blue.

“Shit!” 

He had fallen to the ground, quickly catching himself to minimize damages. He felt his wrist bend but it was far away from actually snapping or damaging itself to the point of needed repair. He huffed, any air he had coming out of him turning into a steamed mist.

He had to get up, keep running, get up and go. Run, run, run, ru-

But he couldn’t. Something had stopped him. Something held him down like a dead weighted chain, and the chain had been getting tighter and tighter around his synthetic chest and it more than he could have had ever described. 

The snow hadn’t been beautiful anymore. That was the first thought that had come to mind as he saw the blue that littered the streets. 

To anyone else, it had just been a color of a spilled appliance. But it wasn’t just that anymore. That was his people’s blood. Blood of his own kind was littered in the street, caked to sidewalks and street lamps.

_ They had never been HIS people. _

Connor looked down to the corpse he had tripped on, suddenly throwing himself back a few feet away from it- from  _ them _ . What had been left of them, anyway.

Connor peered over, his eyes searched almost as delicately and his thoughts remained frantic. 

It was an PL600 model. Their blonde hair hadn’t been blonde anymore, but instead a wet blue matted mess punctuated by bullet wounds. 

If he had been capable of vomiting, he had been sure he would have done so. He instead wretched dryly, backing up to get even more distance from the dead android. 

How many had he been responsible for? How many laid dead now because of him? How many laid broken in that ship he helped sink from the raid he led? How many would have never known what living was? How many were hurting and still alive as it sunk? Did they cry- scream- beg- drown? How many- how many did he kill-

He separated his fingers for a moment just to feel the stickiness that attempted to hold them together- almost a syrupy like substance. 

They were covered in blood of both colors.

He wiped them on his clothes as harshly as he could, desperate to have rid himself of the feeling but was still left with the stain of purple, red, and blue along his digits. 

He had forced himself into a standing position once more despite his legs protest. 

He had to keep running. He couldn’t be there. He couldn’t have looked at those corpses anymore. He couldn’t look at the muddled blood of the once beautiful white ice that fell from the sky. It was so cold. Cold and dark. The sky was an ugly grey and the snow around him was a gross and dirty blue, a blue that bled from people who just wanted the right to breathe. 

He had done that. He did that.

The snow had no longer sparkled, it hit his face like icicles and burned a new sensation on his skin. It no longer whistled, it whipped and had knocked his breath away. It had no longer floated, it had punctured through him like the eyes of those he betrayed. 

The snow was just another reminder that no matter what, nothing had been as it seemed, and that it was just as capable as him in soaking up bloodshed. 

_ Keep running _ .

He had caught his breath and swallowed any unsure feelings and headed back into the night, only lit by the dim street lamps that sparsely littered the small roads. 

He had known he couldn’t be seen. He couldn’t have continued to see that he had just passed. He couldn’t just- 

He just couldn’t be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish I could say this chapter was short and sweet but...
> 
> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	11. Set the Date

Hank quickly learned that getting an appointment as New Jericho had been much harder than he imagined. Of course, he had known it would be hard, but not “your appointment is in six months” hard. The leader, or “Android Jesus” as Hank had come to refer to him as, had been away from the state. 

Of course, he understood, not much can be accomplished from the lower thumb of Michigan, but it had still annoyed him knowing any second he could be killed and that hadn’t been valid enough to be seen. Maybe he should have mentioned that...

They had been booked, from what Hank understood, because upon Markus’s return there was to be a celebration. He had been in Washington discussing the plan of freedom for the now deviated androids and negotiating the terms of what that freedom might have brought to the rest of the United States daily rituals. From what he had observed from the articles on his phone, he was to return very soon though he couldn’t find out exactly when.

Hank attempted to not be bothered by it all, but Connor’s silence made him morbidly unsettled. The Lieutenant had been staying in the kitchen more, using his phone at the table as he drank away some of his time, but he noticed still that Connor hadn’t done anything since he arrived, presumably. Every once in a while Hank’s focus would be lifted from his phone to find Connor twitching, his LED spiraling from a yellow to red to back to yellow. It had been unnerving, seeing him look so human from one angle only to be deceived by a plethora of hanging wires and plastic. The violent movements and twitches had not helped. 

He had seen no reason to comment on this until one night where it became almost impossible to ignore.

The older man had been in a deep rest, his lukewarm whiskey having put him in a comatose like state between sleep and consciousness, but this had quickly changed when he heard yelling from the living room for the second time during Connors stay. He had been slow to sit up but made haste when he had heard it again. The window shed in no light despite his phone reading seven-thirty am.

“I won’t do it!”

Hank stumbled out of his room and into the hallway, ready to have a possible fight with an intruder. There had been no intruder, however, but instead, a disheveled android on the floor with a hand clung to the table beside him. Despite not needing to breathe, Hank observed the android’s shaky patternless breaths. 

“Connor-?”

Connor's head whipped around immediately, his eye filled with panic. He backed himself away for a moment but stopped as he looked up. 

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Hank scrunched his eyebrows. “Good morning? That’s what you say?” 

Connor shrugged his shoulders as he provided no information on his earlier actions.

“I suppose it is. My apologies for waking you.” He said, “you may return to your room now.”

Hank looked at him as if Connor had been the dumbest person to walk the shithole they called Earth. “Go back to bed? No no- I’m done with this.” Hank planted himself on the nearby recliner. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

Connor picked himself up slowly and took his place back on the couch. “I am unsure of what you mean.”

“Cut the shit. Something is off about you and it’s not just your face or your weird android death wish.”

“I-”

“Why don’t you sleep?” 

Connor froze for a moment, his LED had quickly gone red. Despite that, he mustered an answer. “My advanced processors do not require this action.”

Hank had known that was bullshit, given he had spent any free time outside of work on his phone reviewing information on him and Connor. The most the RK800 could last was four days with minimal error but any longer could cause internal damage and overheating. 

“Bullshit. I know your model, Con, no android works like that.”

“You know how?”

“Research.”

Connor looked perplexed but underlying frightened. “Why are you researching my model?”

Not knowing how to answer, Hank lied, “to see about repairing you, which oddly enough is something you don’t seem to want.”

Connor shifted into a temporary position before looking at Hank. “I do not have physical or digital currency to my name to provide payment for my repair.” He said before looking away, “besides, I was hoping for demise anyways.” 

Hank looked to the brunette with curiosity. “I thought you wanted to leave?”

“I do” He responded flatly. 

“And I won’t let you leave without being fixed.” Hank looked to see Connor following his words without having spoken. “We need to go to Jericho and have you repaired so I can find answers and you can leave this shithole because I’m getting a little sick of seeing you waste space on my couch.”

“I can’t go, Hank. I already provided this answer to you days ago.”

Hank softened his voice only slightly, “can you at least tell me why?”

“It’s a fairly obvious answer.” 

“Lay it on me again, then.” Hank said as he leaned back.

Connor rolled his eye before he spoke. “I was the deviant hunter. I was what they- all deviants- were scared of. I was a news headline. I was a nightmare for any deviant in hiding. I was the android who almost killed their leader. I’m the android who brought people kicking and screaming back for deactivation so they could waste away in a garbage bin. I was the android that sunk Jericho all because I couldn’t have seen past my mission for even a single moment.”

Hank lifted a brow. “You sunk Jericho?”

Connor nodded. “When you gave me that time to find the key to Jericho, my answer was followed by an entire swat led by Perkins when my handler betrayed me. I deviated on that ship too late to warn Markus of their arrival.” He paused for a moment and his dark brown eye looked numbed behind his expression. “Many people died. That was my mistake.”

Hank had bit back his remaining questions before he spoke in reply, “I don’t see how any of that was your fault.” 

“Then you have poor comprehension skills for your age.” He quipped. 

“Funny as always, Connor.” 

The room stayed silent for a moment. 

“Is that what the nightmares are about?”

“Androids don’t have nightmares,” Connor replied. 

“Well surely you do if you’re yelling yourself “awake” at seven in the morning”

Connor said nothing so Hank didn’t reply any further. 

At that moment his phone rang from his room. He took his leave of the conversation with one last look at the android and padded himself back to his room to answer the phone before its last ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello, is this Hank Anderson?” A female voice questioned from the other end of the line. She sounded rather snappy, but Hank brushed it off.

“This is.”

“We managed to move your appointment up to tomorrow, we were calling to confirm if this was agreeable for your schedule.” 

Tomorrow? How the hell-

“Yeah- yes that’s fine. What time?”

There was a sigh. “You’d arrive at the front gates at eight am. Your meeting will be with one of us co-executives of New Jericho.” She responded plainly. Hank assumed she was an android due to her speech, but he hadn’t expected such a rude tone for something of the matter.

“That works. Thanks.”

“No problem  _ sir _ . Have a nice day.” 

She had hung up before Hank could have replied “you too.”

Hank set down his phone before he flopped himself back into bed, disrupting a sleeping Sumo from slumber. Hank looked to him apologetically but Sumo hadn’t bought it as he stood and meandered out of the room. Hank grabbed his phone from his side and typed in his code. He clicked on his alarm to create a reminder for the next day. He had known that arriving late may set him back months he possibly didn’t have. After that, he debated calling into work for the next day. He eventually decided against it given he never showed up on time anyways. He figured now that he may as well get ready for work and arrive on time for once.

Despite this, he felt a slight itch in his back that something had not been right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	12. Memory_Access_03170

Connor had walked slowly to the place he was meant to meet Hank, avoiding the sight of any cars or passing androids that might not wish to see his visual presence. He had known they had planned a celebration that day, every android received a ping to the location near the end of the city. From what he gathered they were attempting to find a place to rebuild Jericho but they hadn’t found a place to reside. They had been trying to rebuild a sacred place he took part in destroying. He had only seen two cars pass, both drivers undoubtedly human, but they had seemed to not be paying much attention to the sides of the road as they passed. For good reason, he had supposed.

The roads were still full of the deceased, but they became more sparse the farther he had traveled down the less busy streets. The Chicken Feed hadn’t exactly promoted a lot of activity near that area given it hadn’t been a very highly rated establishment, but Hank wished to meet there so Connor had, of course, agreed. 

Connor felt himself wretch dryly every time he came across another body, especially at the particular site of an android child and a male android. Their hands had been locked as their heads laid face down in the snow. What was once a red coat on the little girl had been caked with her own internal fluid. The blue blood was splattered along the little one’s blond hair line. He gingerly picked up the stuffed toy that the little girl had dropped right before- 

Connor wanted desperately to unsee it, to have had ignorance and pretended they had been sleeping, anything other than the truth of what massacre had occurred in the streets, how not even android children had been spared. He placed the toy bunny in his pocket, his eyes not leaving the two as he walked away. 

He had been nearing the destination. It was only a few blocks from that point, but he felt as if he couldn’t bear the reunion. On the same coin, it was all that he had to keep him from the thoughts that loomed over him like a dark cloud that rained blood. 

What if Hank hadn’t wanted to see him? Was that possible since Hank had been the one to appoint this meeting? He doubted the Lieutenant wouldn’t have made an appearance, but he did, however, have a track record for showing up late to things of importance. Like his job, the only thing he had left to give back to. 

But what if he hadn’t shown up at all? Connor hadn’t provided many reasons for him to be someone to have kept around. He had been a murder by proxy, how long until the lieutenant knew that?

One block away exactly he stopped and looked to the sky. He was going to be early if he had kept his speed. 

The sky had been a wistful medium blue that had been turning into a rising yellow as the day began to awake. Connor found comfort in the lack of falling snow. Last night had been a hell experience on earth. His motors were still recovering even now given he hadn’t stopped running until only a few hours ago. 

It hadn’t snowed much from what could tell, only an inch or two had crusted against the ground giving a satisfying crunch as Connor continued his way down the street. Thankfully the blue trails had stopped, but it had still still ached in his temples as each person flashed in perfect memory to the forefront of his thoughts. 

Finally, the Chicken Feed had been in view, and the sun had begun to shine brightly over the glistening snow. He made his way over and stood just before the now closed building. 

The Lieutenant hadn’t arrived yet, but Connor was okay with waiting as he was still preoccupied with his thoughts.

Where had he been meant to stay after all this? He had known he had no place at Jericho- given that Jericho no longer existed in a physical building. Markus surely knew what had happened, and North would order him to be killed on sight no matter what explanation or excuse he had brought to the table. 

Connor furrowed his brows. How could Amanda have been so petty to have to have spitted him personally? How could Cyberlife have tried to ruin the revolution as it was already resolved? What if it hadn’t been over?

He ran an intensive scan, checking every last file he owned to his name to be sure she had been erased from his software. After he finished he had not been satisfied so he ran it again. 

**Mind_Palace_001-01_Not_Found**

Nothing. He had been safe. At least he had thought so. He would have to check again...

As he closed his scan he had realized thirty minutes had come and gone. Thirty minutes past the time Hank was supposed to arrive. He hadn’t allowed himself to panic, however, because that had been something he had been expecting.

So he waited.

Forty five minutes in he began to review his memory. Hank had agreed to this time and play, right? He confirmed it and began his scan again.

After one hour Connor called Hank's personal phone number, when he didn’t answer he left a message.

“Hi this is Hank. Not here at the moment. Leave a message if that’s what turns you on but don’t expect me to call back. Beep. Whatever.”

“Hello lieutenant, this is Connor. I’ve arrived at the place we agreed to meet and I wanted to confirm your arrival. If you have any questions my serial number works for calls. My number is 313-248-317-51. Thank you.” 

Connor hung up and continued to wait. Thoughtlessly he watched the sky and zoomed in on every cloud and scanned what they had looked like most. His favorite was the one that looked like Sumo. He wondered if he’ll see Sumo again soon.

Two hours in he had left another message.

“Hi this is Hank. Not here at the moment. Leave a message if that’s what turns you on but don’t expect me to call back. Beep. Whatever.”

“Hello again, my apologies for disturbing you but we agreed to meet two hours ago, I was checking to make sure you’re alright and if you’re still available. Call me back at 313-248-317-51.”

After three hours he still hadn’t gotten a response, so every half hour he began to send a text.

Soon enough the whole day had been wasted away, and he had still been in the same spot. Once the sun had begun to set he walked over to the standing table and rested his face against the palms of his hands.

He called again. 

“Hi this is Hank. Not here at the moment. Leave a message if that’s what turns you on but don’t expect me to call back. Beep. Whatever.”

“Lieutenant… I’ve waited most of the day, but if you wish to reschedule I’m fairly flexible and willing to do so. Please let me know once you get the chance. Call me back at 313-248-317-51.”

Connor leaned into the table and pressed his forehead to the cold metal. Hank had really forgotten to show up. Connor tried to act like this hadn’t been a devastating blow, but he had known this was something to not look over.

Perhaps something had happened? 

Connor was unknowing, so he rested his head onto the table with folded elbows and watched the night take over the sky, still hopeful for the man that would never come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	13. Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When

Hank woke up three hours before he needed to leave with a stress headache and a cargo of anxiety on his shoulders. Rather than going back to sleep, he wandered into the hallway to the living room to see Connor sitting on the couch. A coin bounced from hand to hand with a small ”tink.” Before saying anything he had taken in the sight of Connors still tattered clothes. 

Had he been wearing them that whole time? Having felt selfish, Hank bumped himself back into his room and grabbed clothes that may have fit the smaller android.

“Mornin’.” 

“Good morning, lieutenant.” 

Hank dropped a well-loved (mostly just worn out) hoodie and a pair of jeans that hadn’t fit him since thirty-six.

“What are these?” Connor inquired.

“Clothes. You’re blood and dirt stained my couch.”

Before Connor could have declined or questioned he had immediately initiated a conversation. “Got any plans today?” He half-joked and half-wondered.

“Beside still initiating internal repairs? Not likely. Though I am nearing the end of what I may be able to repair myself.” 

Hank eyed the coin that spun on the android's finger for a moment. “I thought you’d be finished with what you could repair by now, given it’s been awhile since… You know.” 

Connor smirked. “My conditions weren’t optimal so my inner workings and chassis have been slow to heal, mostly given the lack of repairs I’ve had.”

“You could come with me, Connor, we could get you repaired. It’s only a few hours until I have to leave.” 

Connor looked at him, his eyes held a sadness behind them that Hank couldn’t have described, almost dog-like. Connor always had sad eyes, ones that could just as easily become hard and painfully cold.

“I do not believe a repair is what will help me at this moment, so I find it a waste of materials.” he had started.

“It really isn’t.” Hank shot back, harder than he meant to.

The moment had grown silent, but instead of its once awkward tone, it felt saddened and cloudlike, as if it may have rained. Hank never liked the rain, at least not anymore. It reminded him too much of snow, and snow… Well-

“Why don’t you want to get repaired?” He tested.

Connors LED spiraled.

Red. Yellow. Red. Yellow. Red. Red. Yellow.

“I don’t wish to be a burden upon your finances.” He retorted.

“I’m fine with my “finances.” Most of my money goes to booze, kid. The rest is saved and only used for the special occasion I feel like eating. Rare since I’m always nauseous.” Hank had meant to make that last part sound like a joke, he really did, but it sounded pathetic to his ears, that the only reason he had money was because he never went anywhere other than a bar and the nearest convenience store for bread and booze.

“Besides that, we aren’t close. It would be inappropriate for me to ask that of you.” Connor had supplied.

Hank rolled his eyes.

“Funny given you were threatening to kill me not even two weeks ago.” 

Red. Deep piercing red. 

Connor twitched at his shoulders, his neck craning. 

“Are you okay-“

“I’m fine.” He snapped. 

His voice sounded much different in that moment, in a way Hank couldn't have deciphered. Hank, being the detective he had been, had begun to piece it together. It hadn’t been hard, considering. So with a voice slightly filled with snark, he stated, “you think that you deserve to be like this.” 

“Excuse me?” Connor asked, his voice filled with defense.

“You don’t think you should be repaired because you don’t deserve to get fixed.”

“Lieutenant I assure you-“ Hank swiftly cut him off and continued, his eyes boring heavily into the android. “You refuse to talk to me because you’re scared of us getting close,” he accused, “am I wrong, Con?” He challenged, “you do this back and forth game of joking at my expense to sobbing about thinking I was dead to hating my guts again.” 

“Lieutenant-“

“You got so used to being alone, you can’t stand the idea of being around anyone else, can you, Connor?”

The moment remained silent but heated.

“Neither can you.” 

Hank cringed, mostly because his assertion hadn't been completely wrong. Had he been projecting? 

No- Connor was behaving like a bipolar kid deciding on their favorite color, Connors had to have been red given the LED that remained unchanged.

“You can be honest, Connor. Really…” Hank rubbed an awkward hand down his neck. “I ain’t good with emotions and shit-“

“Clearly.” he snipped.

“-but I know what it’s like. To be at rock bottom.” The unheard “I’m still there” had gone unsaid unsaid. “I know what it’s like to want to pick up a shovel and dig beneath the bedrock, And I- despite everything-”

“You pity me.”

“Exactly- wait- no- that’s not-“ Hank searched for his wording. “Connor we’ve been through hell together.” He said softly, ”even if it was short-lived we had become friends.”

Connor looked away so Hank started again, “you didn’t deserve to be abandoned by me, as much as I don’t understand why my presence was important, I want to understand so we can... Do something with this.” 

Connor stayed silent, looking in a completely different direction, the coin still pinged from hand to hand. 

He hadn’t been good with emotions. He really had been trying, but in the end he hadn't known what else to say. Despite it having nothing to do with the conversation, Cole had come to mind, so Hank had taken his one chance at vulnerability.

“Cole and I were fighting before that car crash.” 

Connors' attention had suddenly peaked, Hank looked up to see his body shifting to face him.

“It was stupid, of course, most arguments with kids are. He didn’t like the weather, how we couldn’t go to his favorite restaurant to make up for it because they had closed down that night on his birthday.” Hank swallowed a bitter lump. “And something had me on edge that day. I couldn’t tell you what… But all I could think of was my late wife. How she would have known what to do or how to make it up to him.” He sighed.

”Cole's birthday was always hard, so celebrating it late was my answer. But…” Hank turned to his side and attempted to will away the salty tears that had been forming.

“What… What happened to her? Your wife…” 

“All we ever wanted was to have a kid. It was all she talked about. The day we got to prepare the baby's room was the happiest I'd ever seen her. But… She got sick, and then there were complications when the time came around.” He cleared his throat and looked distantly towards the window. “She didn’t make it.” He confessed.

“Cole was all I had from that day forward, and I made it my goal to give him the love that she could not give. But I wasn’t strong enough to be on my own. So when that car crashed... When I had seen that the roads were empty, all I could do was hold Cole as I waited for an ambulance. He bled so heavily in my arms, and I thought of Michelle. Michelle watching above me as I had taken part in killing her baby boy. Our son…” 

He sighed emptily. ”If we hadn’t been arguing- if I had just watched the roads… If I had seen that truck-“ He cut himself off having known that if he kept going he may have cried.

“Hank... I’m sorry.” Connor had offered quietly. Hank nodded in acknowledgement, the only thing on his mind being that this would have been easier with a drink in his hand.

“I threw myself into work for about six months, cracking case after case, taking down gang after gang…. But when I got violent with one of the people I arrested I was suspended from work, though I’m sure Jeff had done it for more than just that reason.” he explained. ”Then I turned to drinking- and that stupid fucking game…”

Hank turned to Connor, his eyes burned as his pupils met Connors single one. “I know what it’s like to lose people, Connor. So I may not know exactly how you felt when I vanished- but I may have at least a little bit of a fucking idea.”

Connor remained silent, the air once again awkward, but at a different level when Hanks hurt mixed into the atmosphere.

“I appreciate you telling me, Lieutenant. Really…”

Hank rolled his eyes as he subtly wiped them. “You’d think we’d have moved past that “Lieutenant” shit by now.” He laughed with his voice still teary.

Connor smirked, having picked up that Hank wished to change the subject. “What name would you prefer,  _ Lieutenant _ ?” Connor asked as he over pronounced every vowel harshly. 

“Hank would be nice, honestly.” He sniffed, “this isn’t exactly a police department where I need to flash my name and badge to get myself off.” 

“Understood, Hank.” 

Hank chuckled. “Smart ass.” 

Connors face had lit up in a way Hank hadn’t seen before. He hadn’t known Connor was capable of smiling and not appearing robotic and douche like. Before there had been too much teeth, an awkward curl of his lips… But now he looked younger, more human. 

But just as quickly as the nice moment started, it ended when Connor frowned again, and before Hank could ask, Connor had begun to speak.

“I’m afraid things won’t stay like this.” 

“What do you mean?” Hank questioned.

“That they won’t stay… Pleasant. Like this. That we will return to our silences, to our fighting, to keeping to ourselves.” 

“That’s because you’ve never experienced something calm, I’m assuming. You’ve only experienced the worst of people, of this city. The dirty alleyways and the unforgiving citizens.”

“Despite that, we are both very unstable people. I don’t wish to depend on you, or for you to depend on me when we both are too close in mindset. It makes me a danger to you in many ways you wouldn't understand if we were to get close.”

Connor looked as if he had more to say, but didn’t, so he continued on his earlier point. “Nothing is meant to last. This won’t. I know it for sure. That’s why I need to leave.” 

“Connor-“ 

“When you leave for New Jericho I plan on going too, not to follow you but to find my own path now that I'm healed enough for mobility. I need to leave Detroit.” 

“You haven’t even been out of Detroit,” Hank guessed openly, “you’re still a walking shit show, please son- let’s get you fixed-“ 

“Don’t call me that.” 

Hank had caught his words just as quickly as they left his mouth with a sharp intake.

“You should be getting ready, Lieutenant.” Connor finally announced, his words laced with a bitter undertone. “It’s nearly seven o’clock and the roads are still congested with traffic in the direction you’re heading.” 

Hank wanted to say something, he really meant to, but he had found his usual booming voice to be weak as he stood and walked away to begin a morning ritual he never truly followed.

That was it. Connor would be leaving, he’d come home to an empty house, to his only companion, Sumo. He’d come home and be able to drink openly again. He’d come and finally-

No. He wouldn’t. Not after that. Not after everything. 

When Hank returned from the bathroom, now fully dressed, he noticed that Connor had changed. His old clothes now in view from his garbage can. 

When he went to the kitchen he heard a low “thank you” from the living room.

“You’re welcome…”

Hank put two pieces of toast in the toaster and leaned his body weight against the counter. He listened intently to the coin being flipped from hand to hand in the room adjoined. 

“You’re always welcome back here.” Hank squawked out. He nearly regretted until Connor responded.

“I will keep this in mind.” 

Finally, after an awkward thirty seconds, the toast popped up. Feeling too lazy to reach into the fridge, he began eating the first piece uncovered.

“You should be leaving, Lieutenant.”

Hank nodded. As he walked to the door he watched Connor from his side as he toed on his shoes. “Despite everything...” Hank hesitated, but continued, “I’m glad I got to see you again...” He cleared his throat.

“Goodbye, Connor.” 

Connor hadn’t looked up as he flipped the coin one final time before he grasped it into his palm.

“Goodbye, Lieutenant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	14. Memory_Access_03217

Connor rested his head against the cold brick behind him, his thoughts raced as he messaged Hank for the three hundred and twenty second time, and, as he was helping notified by his statistics, only had a one point three three three chance of receiving a response. 

This had been his new routine. His old one had been more enjoyable, but this was all he had been left with, all he had salvaged after the battle of Detroit.

He opened his eyes to be met with the same graffitied wall, the same garbage fumes, and the same cold and damp floor that was slicked with dirty snow that had turned to an icy sleet. This November had not been easy on him, all the stasis lacking nights, the hiding, the fear of any second being his last as he continued to waste his time decaying in an alleyway.

He sat up, his cold chassis protested slightly as he did.

He couldn’t have kept waiting like that. Nobody had come looking for him, perhaps he wasn’t a known threat to Jericho? 

In the long and freezing month he had run scan after scan, test after test, search after search and- 

Nothing. There was nothing. His mind he resided in alone. The palace was gone.

Even though he knew this for sure, that he knew it to be true, he checked again. And again. And again. Yet somehow, knowing his mind was his was worse than not being alone.

Repeating patterns had become a weird habit he had started. Flip the coin three times to the left, four to the right, stop, twist and finger balance, repeat. 

That used to be all, but then it migrated to his limbs. It had started as a movement to ensure he wasn’t going to damage his inner workings from the cold, but it turned into a pattern to keep him occupied. Left leg twitch and move up three times, right leg move up three times, and then repeat twice.

It was all he really had left, his body. His body was all he owned and even that didn’t belong to him. He hadn’t made himself, of course. He didn’t own his face. He wasn’t meant to have his own thoughts. He had no friends. No family. No work. No purpose. 

So he flipped his coin and moved his legs. 

But now… He was tired.

So tired of the days being predictable, so tired of watching the news through vpns to ensure he wouldn’t be found, so tired- just… Tired…

Stasis was a death sentence. Every time he began to nod involuntarily came an upscale of assault rising by nineteen point two percent in his peripheral vision.

He was tired. And he was alone.

Markus was going to head to DC very soon. He would only be taking Josh, as the media reported. Connor had assumed, especially from what he had read, was because North, the female co-leader. She had been very aggressive in her negotiation up to that point. Josh had been pacifist and patient with his wording. Simon however, was neutral and careful with his words. Connor had guessed him being left behind was to care for New Jericho. Of course, because of media gossip, it was mentioned that the reason why may have been a possible relationship.

New Jericho was then placed in a hotel in the middle of the city. It had been long abandoned, but with the funds Markus had negotiated terms for, he had been revamped and repaired the area to become a decent living space.

Connor deeply wished he had been a part of it, been a part of the freedom fight for his kind, he had been made for negation, after all, but he hadn’t been. He was there in an alleyway, waiting for-

What had he been waiting for?

Nothing, he decided. He wasn’t coming or going, he was sitting, collecting icicles, losing track of his thoughts, reliving every moment, and finally, he had enough.

He wasn’t going to sit there anymore and wait for a miracle. He couldn’t. No one was coming, he didn’t want anyone to come. 

He didn’t want to die without living. 

Connor stood for the first time in almost a week, his legs barely supporting him as he did, and clung to the wall of the parkway before he looked into the open street. The night had been blinded by the blaring white of the street lamps that loomed over the paved yet icy roads. The cars had returned to the streets, although less than there had been before. He wasn’t in a nice area of the city, so he had always known to be mindful.

The colder it got the harder it had been to stand each time, but as he kicked up his internal heating, his steps had become easier.

He had long stopped the use of his internal map, having shut that down entirely. So there Connor was, wandering aimlessly in the streets.

He always thought Detroit was the greatest city to live in Michigan, given that many other places in the United States talked about it so much in online forums, but it had many deep holes and dark places that held nothing but crime and trouble, trouble that had only worsened.

As he walked he noticed a gentle snow that had begun to fall around him. To others it was beautiful, to others 

He hated it. That was why he had liked the alley way- even though he also wished he could commit arson on the garbage piles he slept upon, there was an overhang that stopped the majority of the snow from creeping in. 

The more he walked the more he ached, ached for companionship that he hadn’t received in so long, companionship he would have had if not for cyberlife.

He stopped suddenly. Voices?

Distantly, he heard talking, three voices coming his way. 

Three humans. 

His stomach shifted, he only had a twenty percent chance of being unseen if he darted now, so instead he held his ground and walked.

He would have been strong enough to take them if they tried anything, and it hadn’t taken them long to notice him, just as long as it took for Connor to notice the bat at one of the men’s side.

“Hey look- it’s one of them plastics,” the shortest one laughed, pointing ahead. Connor shifted himself to the right side of the road to pass them. But as they passed the larger male turned him by the shoulder to face them.

Connor kept his eyes to the ground, refusing to intimidate the people in front of him.

“Hey tincan- my buddy here addressed you. Ain’t you got something to say?” He shook his arm for emphasis. The other two laughed. “Still got his little uniform on, you still working, plastic?”

“He’s probably one of them fancy traci models. Maybe he’ll suck your dick if ya ask him.” One of them snarked.

Connor said nothing and kept his eyes to the ground. He held his fists down to his side hoping they would find him unthreatening and have left him be.

He didn’t want to fight. It tarnished Markus’s name, even if they no longer held affiliation.

“Hey- I’m fucking talking to you.” He spoke again, his voice filled with a subtle anger.

“Maybe he’s broken?” The shortest inquired. 

“Fucking doubt it, he’s just-“

“Wait- holy shit-“ 

The one beside him pushed his friend aside, his face had been full of excitement, “that’s the one from the news- the detective one.” The man in front of him looked at his jacket and smiled as he confirmed that he had been from the RK line.

Connor felt his stomach drop. That information could only have led to two things. Either they’d let him go to avoid the wrath of Markus, which wouldn’t have happened of course given Markus hadn’t known if his whereabouts, or they’d kill him because they would think his death would be important.

“You’re right, Louis, we got a big shot here.” He exclaimed. His voice had been gravely, scratching against Connors ears in a way that made him feel ill. 

“Could get in a lotta trouble for messing up such a piece, huh boys?” 

“Yeah! That Markus guy probably come running down here real quick, huh?”

The man stepped closer to him, his hot breath against his neck, “shame you’re out so late, huh big shot? Now we got a dilemma.” 

Connors instincts kicked in almost immediately, he punched the man hard enough to knock him into the two behind him. Connor had immediately been filled with regret as the man stood back up and wiped his face, eyeing the fresh blood that poured from his nose. He smiled and took the bat from the other.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” He questioned, his voice neutral, “coulda been a fun time, plastic.”

Before Connor could run he had received a hard slam to the face, one that caused him to fall back into the car behind him.

“Ain’t so strong now, huh, plastic?” The one named Louis called out.

Connor hadn’t gotten a chance to look up before being hit again. He felt the thirium pour from his face as he clenched his fist.

If he said anything he knew it would have only made it worse. So he had continued to endure.

“It’s a real shame to mess up such a pretty face, huh boys?” 

He received two more hits before the bat was thrown to the side. He could barely move his neck to have seen, his hearing on his right side significantly damaged. 

“Maybe next time you’ll realize you ain’t got a fuckin’ say.” He spat. 

The man had spit at him, but Connor hadn’t cared, not in the slightest. It hadn’t done anymore damage to have been disrespected when he had just received a bat to the face.

He heard the man laugh as they walked away and Connor alone. 

Connor immediately tried to stand but failed. Instead he ran a diagnostic.

_ Error_10%_Inaccuarcy _

_ Damage to optical unit #8087 _

_ Damage to audio processor #4903 _

_ Damage to neck port #2093 _

_ Damage to lower limb #4057 _

_ Damage to- _

Connor stopped the scan. He felt everything that had been damaged. Luckily, he hadn’t been in danger of shutdown, though most of what had been destroyed could not have been healed himself.

He sighed tearily.

This was what he had been left to. He was left to be nothing more than something to have been destroyed. He was going to die there. He was going to die and no one would have known. 

It would take a few minutes to have his leg back in an optimal order to stand, but it would be working at less than normal capacity at sixty percent.

He heard the familiar crunch of the snow of someone walking toward him. They had been coming to finish the job. Connor braced himself to be met with nothing for almost a solid twenty seconds.

“Hello.” A voice had said.

Connor forced his neck to move. Once he had readjusted he saw an android standing above him.

“Hello.” Connor responded.

“You’re in less than optimal shape.” He had said unhelpfully.

“Hadn’t noticed.” Connor croaked out with a fizz in his voice.

The android tilted his head. His face had been neutral, to the point Connor had been unnerved. 

“I could have you fixed.” 

Connor looked away from him. He had no currency to his name, so this conversation had been futile. “At what cost?” 

The android smiled. It looked fake and questionable. “No cost,” he responded, “my old human had a shop not far from here.” He reached his hand forward, “I could show you.” 

Connor had a bad feeling, something he hadn’t known he was capable of. This android hadn’t seemed earnest. But with the state he had been in, what else had he had been to do? 

“I have nothing to lose. Connor had said with earnest, “I will come with you.” 

“Thank you, Connor.” 

Connor grabbed his hand to be met with an error message.

“How did you know my-“

**ERROR_143-D56_PROBE**

“Stop what are you doing-!”

Suddenly Connor couldn’t speak, suddenly trapped in his own head.

**INITIATING_DOWNLOAD**

**DOWNLOAD_ 2%**

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Connor.” The android said, standing back up.

Connors' hearing glitched as he desperately tried to stop the incoming download. He hadn’t been able to move as he was suddenly stuck in his own mind. He wanted to have stopped him but it was too late.

**DOWNLOAD_ 17%**

He searched for any possible way to disable the process, to exit it, but there had been nothing.

**DOWNLOAD_ 56%**

He felt his chest begin to collapse in fear when the number continued to climb. There had to be a way-

**DOWNLOAD_ 89%**

Stop- STOP-

**DOWNLOAD_99%**

**——**

**DOWNLOAD_COMPLETE**

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	15. Behind His Face

The drive through the city had been as chaotic as a presidential election as Hank had weaved his way through traffic to make his appointment. The roads had been fuller now than he had seen in months, and it seemed as if they had all been traveling the same direction. It frustrated him more than it should have given he’d have only been a few minutes late at this rate. He had never been patient in the car, not even when had begun driving in his teens.

Luckily, Hank had his knowledge of the streets through personal experience as an officer. It was a given that he always knew the fastest route, so by a near miracle, he had arrived on time. 

He passed the first line of security and was given a designated parking spot along with a numbered receipt he was meant to show the guards, one he had already lost due to the complete shitter in his head he had called a brain. He stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, looking up at the enormous building that surrounded the area. 

The Lieutenant hadn’t been one to keep up on the news, but he hadn’t expected a building with at least thirty- maybe even forty- stories! The building was in surprisingly good shape, better than he had been expecting from being a government gift from that asshole in the chair. Its pathway had been new looking, the parkway obviously repaved, and the brick had looked relatively clean and sturdy. The building’s sides were guarded by long (withered by the cold) bushes and symmetrically placed stone. The windows above the first story had been tinted which Hank had personally applauded. God knew that those androids had been exposed enough.

Hank closed his door, a little harder than he needed to, but this hadn’t mattered to him. The scenery stalling hadn’t been enough to quell the building anxiety that held him by his freezing hands. It hadn’t taken a rocket surgeon to know that going there had been a bad idea. He knew his name had been on the news, he knew that he was a traitor and that he wasn’t ever reported to have helped the revolution. To them he had just been another evil human fighting against their rights.

He was a traitor for all they knew. An apology wouldn’t have spared his life even if he begged with a cherry on top and extra sprinkles.

Hank was an old man and if some pissed off house model android wanted to kick him in the nards and slit his throat he wouldn’t have personally stopped them. Probably would’ve congratulated and thanked them if anything.

He looked up to and saw gentle flurries had begun to flow down from the thick grey clouds that upheld the sky, paving a gentle fluff to the less than cracked roads of Detroit. 

Deciding he had procrastinated enough, he walked towards the main entrance that had been blocked by two male androids of the same model. Two  _ very  _ massive and robust androids of the same model. 

Hank was a tall man, 6’3 had been more than respectable, but by only a mere two to three inches they towered him in an unsettling way. Perhaps he hadn’t been used to being shorter than someone, at least not for a while. But to have made a long story short, there had been two more skyscrapers to intimidate him. 

“License and identification.” One of them bellowed with a hand ready to accept his information.

Hank had given a nod and nervous smile as he plucked his wallet from his back pocket, holding his chest out to appear dominant in a situation he clearly hadn’t been. Now wasn’t time to show his dick length and flash a badge, but fuck if he would have allowed himself to look like a piss baby.

They looked at the cards he had handed them, scanning them multiple times to be sure. Once satisfied they handed them back.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. We need to see your admission receipt before you enter.” 

“Yeah- of course.”

Hank had felt a cold sweat as they watched him pat down his coat and pockets looking for his receipt. The two androids faces had become more on guard the longer be babbled on looking for something he clearly had lost.

“Fellas- I know I had it- you can ask-“

“If you do not have your receipt we have the right to deny entry.”

What was this? Some kind of high end bar? “But I have a meeting-“ 

“Lieutenant, we ask that you remove yourself from the premises as your appointment has not been confirmed in our schedule and you have no proof of proper admission.” 

“Hold on a minute- I know that I have something because they let me through the-“

“Despite your position in law environment this is an android governed facility that is protected but the United States government. If you do not leave-“

“I got a call confirming my appointment today!” He cut off with a slight plea in his voice. “I know this looks sketchy that I-I lost the paper and I don’t got an appointment there but it’s there- you got- gotta let me in to see-“

“Lieutenant Anderson?” 

Hank turned to see a slightly shorter android behind him holding a box labeled “thirium 310.” He was wearing a simple tan turtleneck with a black winter jacket. He had neatly parted blonde hair that only held small flurries from the drift. He slowly met the muted blue eyes of the former when the android smiled.

“He’s with me.” He had stated simply.

“My apologies, Simon.” One of the models said as he stood aside. “Welcome back.” 

“Thank you, Buford.” He nodded. “Bruce.”

The shorter man gestured to him to follow as he walked past him. Hank, still having picked up where the last conversation had left off, followed behind. He looked nervously over his shoulder as they stepped into the building. It hadn’t exactly been a satisfying warm gust of air, but it hadn’t been an unpleasant temperature either.

“My apologies for their on guard behavior,” the android, seemingly named Simon, had said. “Today had been rather busy and hectic. I’ve been left to handle many tasks myself.” 

“Huh. No- I get it kid.” Hank responded cooly. 

“Yes. Filling in for a whole two chairs of our leadership hasn't been easy.” He laughed. Hank chuckled along awkwardly.

As they made their way into the lobby a few people had stopped what they had been doing to eye the newcomer that he had been. Hank had felt uncharacteristically nervous, though he had known he was a sight to see being an old fat man in a building full of young troubled androids. Still, he managed to ignore the glares and whispers that had strung about.

They all had seemed to be doing similar tasks, cleaning and arranging. It was odd to see but Hank had bit his tongue on the subject given its sensitivity.

“Lotta bustling it looks like.” 

“Oh yes! Lots of preparation.” Simon responded with only a slight edge to his words.

Before they had made it to the elevator they passed a large door that led to what looked to be an auditorium. A few well dressed androids were inside setting tables near the corners.

Simon gently pressed the button to the first elevator of four and waited.

“Preparation for what?” Hank inquired.

Before Simon could answer they were met with a gentle “ding” and the opening of the elevator doors. They both stepped inside, keeping a respectable distance apart. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t seen it on the news.”

“Not really a media kinda guy- except music and stuff of that nature. I mean like- the news is cool I guess. Yeah…” Hank bit the side of his cheek. Being alone had really made him that one awkward guy everyone avoided, hadn't it? 

”Well… Markus and Josh are returning tonight from DC after making negotiations with the government branches. They are preparing a celebration for the ruling of the very first android laws.” Simon stated proudly.

”Ah… Must've missed that.” 

The rest of the elevator ride was spent in awkward silence, the whole thirty-story travel. Once they reached the top Simon offered a surprisingly genuine smile. 

”I know this meeting was implemented much sooner than we had planned for you, but myself and our co-leader had requested that you be seen immediately.”

”Huh. Any reason?” 

Simons's expression hadn’t even changed for more than a mere millisecond but if he had still held an LED Hank wouldn't have guessed it to be red.

”Just some things that need to be discussed. Nothing to be nervous about, but nothing to be conversed openly.” 

The Lieutenant nodded, his eyebrows fused at the hairs. Something had been going on, something serious enough to make six months less than two days- and whatever it was had given Hank an awful pit in his stomach.

They walked down an excruciatingly long and empty corridor, one that was only lit by a few dimmed light fixtures. Hank looked over to see Simon's face had gone unchanged but the grip on the box he had been holding had tightened in a slight manner not many may have noticed.

Finally at the end of the hall he opened a door, holding it open so Hank may step in. Inside the dark room was a single large floor to ceiling window and a few pieces of furniture. Two couches, one desk, two chairs. The walls held several nice paintings that Hank had barely paid attention to as a puff of smoke passed overhead of a woman who stood by the slightly fogged glass. She had strawberry brown hair pulled back in a tight braid that cascaded down her back. She had worn a leather based jacket and a pair of ripped grey leggings that stopped just above a pair of combat boots. She radiated the energy of a woman he wouldn’t ever want to fuck with just by her aura.

“North. Please don’t smoke in here, no one enjoys that smell.” Simon said as he closed the door quietly behind him. He had taken a moment to set the box on the floor.

The woman, who’s name was now revealed to be “North” flicked the cigarette into an ashtray she had been holding before putting it out.

“Didn’t know androids smoked.” Hank noted mostly to himself. 

“Didn’t know humans made such stupid assumptions.” She had said without even having turned around.

“ _North_.” Simon acknowledged sternly.

North rolled her eyes before walking across the room. “Who’s this?” She asked, her voice less than pleased.

”This is Lieutenant Anderson. The one who needed primary discussion as Markus requested.” 

Hank waved an awkward hand.

“Oh Jesus… Right, that.” North circled her way around the desk and took a seat, her eyes moved to gesture to the chair before her.

As the older man took a seat Simon had taken his place beside North in a standing position. He looked nervous and Hank felt uneased by the near sight.

“What’s this about?” Hank had started, “wasn’t about to see even a low-level hireling for another six months but now I'm sitting in a leader’s office not even a few days later.”

Simon shifted uncomfortably. Hank quickly saw why he hadn’t been the one shipped out for negotiation in DC. North however reclined herself and held a strong glare, her brown eyes unmoving and alert.

“You were partners with an RK800.” She stated. He knew it had been meant to sound like a question but it seemed as if she already had the answer.

Hank clamped his hands together and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. “Yeah. Connor. Met him a few days before everything-“

North leaned forward. “I’m not asking questions for useless details  _ Lieutenant. _ ” 

Hank was taken slightly aback. Had this been an interrogation?

Simon immediately butt in. 

“My apologies. We are just asking to confirm that you know the RK model known as Connor personally.” 

“Uh… Yeah. He was my partner at the DPD across town. He was assigned to the department shortly after things began to escalate in the state.” 

“Do you know where he is?” 

That should have been a simple question, it really should have been, but something about this felt off, so he held his answer. 

“No,” he said confidently. “I don’t know where Connor is.” 

North sneered forcefully but remained quiet as she bounced her leg.

“Do you remember when you last saw him?” Simon asked.

“Yeah. Right after he deviated the lots in Cyberlife tower. He was heading out into the brunt as we said goodbye.” Hank quieted for a moment, almost hesitantly. “I- uh, haven’t seen him since.” 

Hank had been made to lie. He was good with interrogations, but the contact that they held, the darkness of the office, the pure silence… He was on the other end of the table now. 

“Where is he!?”” North had urged, her voice strong and accusatory.

“I-“ 

“North! That is no way to talk to-“ 

“Shut up Simon!” She sharply interrupted, ”we have ten hours before Markus returns and he’s still out there! We need answers now!” North exclaimed through gritted teeth.

“Yes! I'm aware! But this man has no correlation with Cyberlifes doings-“

North slammed a sudden hand to the desk in a quick escalation, “that won’t matter if we can’t stop him from getting his hands on Markus before we get this shit figured out! We’ve had weeks and we have yet to track him down- this meat bag is our last chance and you're squandering it with your same nice guy bullshit!”

“North, I want to protect him more than anyone else would but-“

“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on here?!” Hank shouted suddenly.

The room went stagnant as the words had finished from Hank's mouth. Simon took a gulp Hank guessed he wouldn’t have needed and North retracted her fingers from the desk into her palms.

North leaned over the table, her eyes full of subtle anger chanted by a grimace. She slowly leaned back and sighed. Hank released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Connor was supplied a virus by Cyberlife that undeviated him.” 

“North- you can’t just-“ 

“Can’t what, Simon? We can’t paddle around this anymore. I’ve tried your way. This our last chance before something awful may happen.” She sounded defeated, tired, and stressed. Hank felt a sliver of pity until she had looked back up at him. It took a moment but the words had hit him all at once.

“He’s not… What?” 

“He’s not deviant. Not completely anyway…” Simon continued North's thought after a silent moment. “We discovered their fail safe shortly after the brunt of the revolution ended.” Simon explained. “We have joint ownership of Cyberlife tower. The space had been cleared to begin construction for a second Safe Haven for our kind. And we discovered this…” 

Simon held his hand over the table, a map of data displayed on his hand.

“What is this?” Hank implored.

“It’s code…” Simon slowly returned a hand to his side. Hank had taken a moment to try and decipher what he had seen to no avail. “When you were working with Connor had he ever mentioned his mind palace?” 

Hank had thought back and nodded. “Yeah- at one point he mentioned talking to someone in his head, I think.” 

“That was his handler, the AI representative of the RK line.” North resumed from Simon's place. ”Her purpose was to make sure Connor fulfilled his.” North left out what Connor's purpose had been given it being a very well known fact.

“There had been multiple fail safes for when Connor deviated, one being a form of comfort in his handler's actions. When he did good he was praised. He was programmed to be easily susceptible to manipulation.” Simon resumed. 

“Aren’t all you guys like that?” 

“No. Not like him,” Simon had disclosed, ”he was programmed with a sense of disappointment and pride. This helped his direction.” 

North rolled her eyes. “They basically made him a coded leash and they used a couple of scolds and compliments to keep him in line. Anytime he failed he was threatened.” She sat back. “It didn’t work, so the second fail safe came into play.” 

“Yes,” Simon continued, “Connors model had been made to deviate. They had been very close to finding the code to deviancy from what we witnessed, but they never quite found the cause. There had been hundreds of hours worked into many different codes. However, they knew only enough to make Connor self aware. When Connor inevitably deviated they made it possible for them to resume control.”

“He almost shot Markus during his final speech of the revolution.” North said coldly.

Hank felt his heart drop at this new information. Connor wasn’t-

“Connor managed to escape his handler. We believe that he even managed to delete her programming. Until the third fail safe had come into play.”

“They created a virus, a corruption that permanently embedded itself into his code so that it may not be removed again. It was meant as a last resort, and before we could stop it it was released through the face of an android.” 

Simon sighed tiredly. “We found the model. It was a simple AP700 if you could believe it…” Simon tried to laugh but it died the second he had started. “We dug through every server, every file, every scanner…” Simon trailed off.

“We never found how to reverse it.” North finished.

Hank sat back in his seat. That had been a lot of information- possibly even too much for an android brain, but he felt conflicted as a million thoughts raced through his head.

“Lieutenant. We need to know where he is.” Simon said softly.

“What are you going to do to him?” Hank asked in a near whisper.

North retracted into her seat. “His code is irreversible. We didn’t even need him here to have had access to his main server and data. We attempted to supply the virus to it multiple times. We failed with each attempt to remove it. So if- when we find him we…” North trailed off.

He had figured out the solution before it had even been said, his ice cold blood and goosebumps had dissipated into a booming rage. 

“No. No! Absolutely not!” The Lieutenant shouted, standing from his chair so quickly it had knocked over. “I’m not letting you-“ his throat dried before the words could leave his breath. 

“Lieutenant, please.” Simon pleaded.

“No- you’re asking for me to sell him out so you can just- just kill him- kill him and the life he wants-  _ deserves  _ to have- you’re just gonna,” Hank looked to his hands as if they held an answer before he stormed himself fully against the desk.

“I won’t let you fucking kill him!” 

North is ready to lunge and scream in return when Simon placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her seated.

“We don’t want this anymore than you do!” Simon voiced in return, “we wanted to find any other solution, we tried, but our last option was-“

“What? What is that last option? Spit it out, son!”

The blonde android hesitated. “The original creator of the RK line- we tried everything to get in his contact, but his home is in an unknown location. He went silent after the revolution. We really did try-” 

“I know-“ Hank sputtered, “I- I know where he lives- what if I talked to him? What if we figured something out?” 

“It’s unlikely.” Simon said, “Markus will be here in t-minus nine hours and nothing has been created to reverse this by Elijah in that time before now. It may be too late.” 

“No- no I’ll figure this out.” 

Hank started to back up. “I’m gonna get this fixed. I’m not going to let this happen.” Hank asserted, holding Simon's eye contact.

“Lieutenant!” North beckoned louder than needed as Hank reached for the doorknob.

Hank had looked up with his eyes full of panicked pain. 

North's eyes softened as she frowned at the grey-haired man. 

“Good luck.” 


	16. Within His Code

Hank had felt completely dissociated as he had driven the opposite direction of New Jericho and to a place he had never thought he would ever have had to visit again. A place so far out of his mental reach that he hadn’t ever pondered it.

Fucking Elijah Kamskis mansion. A mansion out in butt fuck now-wheres-ville.

That guy had been nothing more than a narcissist with a God complex. A man who had believed he had the world wrapped around his fingers and that he could control their lives every pull and tug.

It had bothered Hank that this had been true and that he really had that much control. 

It had started to snow heavier now than it had before, so heavy that Hank had felt his anxiety spike every time the car swerved. It most definitely hadn’t helped that he was speeding.

Connor’s life had depended on him arriving quickly. The leaders of New Jericho depended on him arriving quickly. He himself had depended on himself arriving quickly. Any second longer could be another second a man or android could have breathed.

It had scared the Lieutenant, to have been holding a life in his old calloused hands. It terrified him to his core that if he had even made one mistake, had asked one wrong question, that would have been it. 

The other side of the coin held an equally terrifying fear, a fear that Kamski would not help him. 

Of course, there was also the chance that Kamski couldn’t have helped him, but he needed to pressure him into creating something quickly before-

Hank swallowed thickly before he had taken a deep breath.

Had he really been keeping a machine in his home that whole time? Had Connor been plotting that whole time to kill Markus upon return right there upon the couch he had brought him? Had Hank really saved someone-  _ something _ that could end the lives of hundreds and the still ongoing rebellion?

Would he had been just as guilty as murder if Cyberlife got their way? Could he have even lived with himself?

Hank knocked the thoughts back into the depths of his brain as he continued the hour-long drive across Detroit. 

It would have made sense if Connor hadn’t been deviated. He had held so little of his old features. He had been bitter and emotionless at many points and had that same persistence in his goal to leave as he had with finding the code for deviation to shut it down. Had he wanted to leave out fear of what he might have done? Had that been the reason he had wished to leave Detroit? Had there still been something left in him?

Hank hadn’t much time left to think as he finally started to near his destination. 

Kamskis home had really been a strange thing of its own. How could Elijah Kamski, a man desperate for attention and control, live so far away from the city he had helped influence? 

He had ignored the question knowing he wouldn’t have ever had an answer. 

Finally, after nearly an hour of driving, he pulled into view of the large home surrounded by the frozen pond behind it. 

As he pulled up he felt as if his chest was as heavy as the snowfall. He knew he had been nearing a panic attack, something he hadn’t had in a while as he had watched the tremors of his hand. He sat in his car for a moment to collect his bearings.

What if he had been too late already? What if the second Markus stepped into New Jericho he was to be shot down by his former partner? What if-

Hank had suddenly thrown himself out of the car and upchucked bile onto the snow with several dry wretches and pulses of his stomach. Not much had come up given he hadn’t eaten much, but the taste had been less than appetizing. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and pushed the tears from his eyes that had formed while he gagged. 

Hank took several deep breaths before deciding his stress vomiting had finished and took in the scene. 

The home had been the exact same as before, almost disturbingly so. An odd shape dependant black box covered in snow that loomed much higher than it should have. It had been fitting given the man Kamski had been. 

Hank walked to the door, stomach still churning, and rang the bell. 

He waited for a moment, reliving the awful memories he had carried from this place when the door opened. 

“Lieutenant Anderson,” a blonde android had greeted warmly, “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“Ah- yeah. Chloe, right?” Hank questioned, rubbing his cold hands together. 

Chloe simply nodded and allowed him to step inside. 

The room had been a bad kind of nostalgia as he crossed into the center of the space. Chloe had appeared different that time around. She had still kept her signature blonde ponytail, but instead of the simple blue dress, she had been wearing a dark blue blouse that came down her chest in a rectangular neckline. She wore a simple triangle silver necklace and two silver bracelets that extenuated the large blown-out bell bottom sleeves. Her shirt had been tucked into light blue high rise jeans. One thing she still had been was barefoot but her jeans had been cuffed near the bottom in a symmetric form.

She had looked much more human, more humanly dressed. He wouldn’t have had guessed she hadn’t been human if not for meeting once before and the gentle blue LED she had still held on her temple.

“I assume you’re here to see Elijah?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty urgent.” Hank had said with a slight edge to his voice.

“Elijah is rather busy at the moment. You could always come ba-”

“There isn’t time for that.” Hank had cut off, “This matter could lead to destruction if not handled today-  _ right now.”  _

Chloe nodded. “I suppose this was why Elijah had been expecting you.”

“Expecting me-?”

“Follow me, I’ll have you see him now.” She took him to the second door, and instead of visiting the room he had been in last time they traveled down a long hallway. They stopped at the first door near the middle. It had been metal and had a small glass pane to look into. Before it opened Hank could see a slouched man over a table.

“Elijah. The Lieutenant is here to see you.” 

Kamski raised his head slowly.

“Thank you Chloe. You may leave us.” 

Chloe placed a delicate hand on the grey-haired man's shoulder before she walked out, gently closing the door behind her.

“Okay so-“

“I was expecting you later than this.” Kamski said tiredly. “What a terrible way for this story to end.”

Hank raised a brow in question. He hadn’t had time for this.

“Kamski- I don’t have time for this,” he began, “Markus is in danger and Connor might either die or be the reason this whole rebellion ends. I need you to come up with something to stop this- anything!”

Kamski tilted his head before he turned himself to face the Lieutenant. 

He looked exhausted. His hair had been matted in its man bun and his glasses had been fogged with sweat. Rather than a fancy robe he had been swearing a simple grey sweatshirt stained with oil and pencil shavings and a pair of black sweatpants. 

“A story isn’t meant to end like this.” 

“What the fuck are you on about?” 

“You don’t have to be good with words for your story to mean something.” He started again, “I believe the work of a pen is the ink of your blood, the fuel inside you. So whatever you make, even if people don’t like it or understand it, it holds meaning. But the blood of androids to the blood of humans-” 

“What the fuck does any of that have to do with what I said? Do you always have to use your pretentious metaphors and euphemism bullshit?”

Kamski finally stood, “allow me to show you.” He had only been slightly disoriented as he walked over to the wall and clicked a button to a projector. “I knew this was going to happen. It only made sense it would. I had been expecting the arrival of a messenger so I began working on a solution.” 

The screen flickered to a code of ones and zeros.

“This was the code given to a faceless android. It had been meant to infect the RK800 directly.” 

The screen flashed to Connors model along with a long line of coding. 

“Connor is a very unique model. He is made with a completely different code than any other android. And for one simple reason.” Kamski looked to Hank. “He had been meant to deviate by design. He had been aware of what fairness was, what empathy was for, and a sense of coded pride when completed his missions.” 

Kamski moved to the next slide.

“Connor wasn’t able to be undeviated through a manual download sent by Cyberlife, therefore making their only solution being a virus infused into a simple yet more recent model thus completely overriding my fail safe.” 

“Is he even a deviant?” Hank had asked, a pressure in his chest.

“Somewhat. He is still under basic control by his handler, Amanda. She had been built into him to ensure he accomplished his mission in taking out deviancy.” 

He sighed as he pointed to the next slide. “There is only one way for her to properly infiltrate him. His deviancy code is much stronger than what Cyberlife could combat, so their defense was his daily subroutine of stasis. He would be completely surrendered into his mind palace and be unable to fight himself back into his outside perspective.” 

“That’s why he doesn't-“

“Precisely.” He confirmed. 

“How the fuck does that even work?” Hank questioned.

“Although the virus was already completely downloaded, it never infused itself properly into his new code. The plan they had created was to trap him into the palace and overrun his body. Any time he entered stasis he had been falling into their control code by code.” 

“How do we stop it?!” 

Kamski turned to the final slide of the projector.

“There isn’t a way to remove what has been implemented into him, so the only solution is to create a code to counteract his handler.” 

Hank thought for a moment as his slow brain had pieced it together. “So you’re trying to deviate Amanda.” 

Kamski nodded. “The task isn’t as simple as it sounds. Amanda was a programmed AI, a script with a face to be more exact. Unlike an android they are more tightly programmed to fulfill their tasks. They may learn from their environment but they don’t have personalities of their own.” He stopped for a moment to push up his glasses and rub his tired eyes. “Amanda may be able to view Connors memories but because the deviancy code isn’t compatible with her data she hadn’t deviated with him, hence my fail safe.” 

“I’m hearing a whole lot of what the problem is and not enough of how the fuck we save him and everyone else from whatever the fuck that means.” 

Kamski crossed the room and beckoned the Lieutenant to follow. On the desk laid a flash drive and a large paper with drawings of wires, flash drives, and code. 

“I’ve been trying to figure out that answer,” he continued, “without anyone to test such a solution on I have no idea if it may work. So all I have is this.” 

Kamski had carefully picked up a flash drive from the desk.

“This is the code I created to deviate his handler. I worked everything I had into this, but there’s a very likely chance it won’t work.” He chuckled. “I’m sure you don’t want the specifics but it’s a very large gamble to take.” 

“What happens if it does what it’s supposed to?” 

“It will deviate Amanda and Connors code will return to normal. He will have complete free will and the threat of Cyberlife will no longer exist.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Kamski lowered his head. “This drive has a fail safe that will transfer all of his data, code, and memory into it if it can’t stop her. If it’s successful we would be able to pick apart his code and remove it manually, but there is no telling the time it would take to fix such an error. And there is a chance that it may be too corrupted to even repair him, so he’d be trapped permanently inside of this drive.” 

Hank rubbed a hand down his beard.

“What is more likely to happen? What’s the bottom line?”

“It's an equal chance that both could occur, a near fifty fifty if I calculated everything correctly.”

Hank nodded solemnly as Kamski slowly placed the drive into his hand. Hank looked at it carefully as if his mere gaze may cause it to shatter. 

“I don’t think I could-“ Hank choked on his words, looking from the drive back to Kamskis face, “I don’t think I could just- what if it kills him?”

Kamski smiled softly. “The choice is yours, Lieutenant, what you’ll do with this. There’s a chance that this may end him, that it won’t work. And if it does fail...” Kamski looked him directly in the eyes as he folded Hanks' fingers over the flash drive. “At least it would be a painless way to remove him.” 

Hank nodded again. “Okay… How do I use it?” 

Kamski pointed to a specific part of the paper. “There is a port in the back of his neck. With applied pressure it will remove his skin and reveal his chassis. All you’d need to do is press this button and inject the drive.” 

“Yeah- yeah I can do that.” 

“Good. Be mindful, Anderson. The balance of a whole species is on the line. Don’t let your choice be his final mistake.” 

Hank clenched the drive into his hand as he stuffed it into his pocket.

“Go. Before it’s too late.” He urged, flailing his hand towards the exit.

Hank walked to the door as Kamski takes a seat.

“Thank you, Kamski.” 

Kamski said nothing as he had left, so Hank hadn’t either. 

Hank speed walked from the corridor back into the lobby of the home. Chloe had no longer stood in sight so he took a moment for himself and stopped right before the front door. He took the chip from his pocket, turning it in his hands.

Connors fate-  _ a whole species fate _ \- it lied within this piece of plastic and metal, and Hank had been the one to make the choice. Either way Connor could die and it was up to him if he died painlessly and respectfully. It had been Hank's choice if he wanted the blood on his hands to be real or metaphorical. 

But he might not die. He might have lived and become what all androids wanted most. Free. Connor could be free. Connor could finally be happy. 

Hank shoved it back into his pocket as he headed back to his car. He had spent the whole drive in a silent debate of whether or not he would risk such a thing if it hadn’t even had a definitive answer of if it worked.

It could cause him to live painfully for eternity inside the flash drive. He would be stuck there and he would suffer until it would eventually be broken to pieces and Hank wouldn’t even know if it worked until the worst happened.

But he couldn’t let Markus be shot either.

Would it be more painless if he had just… 

Right in the temple. It could have been just as painless. It could have been the right answer. 

Hank pulled into his driveway after another hour exhibition. He had been at New Jericho longer than he had expected, and the meeting with Kamski hadn’t been short, either. The sun had already been setting on the cold winter night. He hated how it set so early now. 

The lights in his home had been left on and he had been able to see directly into his living room. Connor might have stayed.

Hank held the drive tightly in his hands as he went to enter. However he stopped to see his door had been wide open.

_ Fuck. _

He sprinted inside to find nothing. Empty. His home had been empty. Hank felt a cold sweat travel down his back as he took in the scene. Sumo had laid in the far side of the room, not having even bothered to have greeted his owner. Hank walked past him and into the kitchen to find no one. Next he entered his bedroom. The light had been on and his closet had been-

His heart dropped.

His case he had kept in his closet had been opened and now gunless as the floor had been a mess of spare bullets.

What a terrible way for a story to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	17. Lies Schrodingers Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the moment we don't know what is and isn't. What would you do if everyone depended on that choice even if it was out of your hands?

The day Cole died had been one long night that never ended. It had been a time when the time had not existed.

Cole had argued with Hank about where they were to eat, it had been simple, but then Hank had been crawling out of an upturned car covered in his own blood.

His mind had been foggy when he reached into that car, hopelessly searching for his boy. His son's ruby rudded blood immediately stained his hands as he pulled him out of the crushed vehicle and into his lap.

The car had been an updated model, so the second the car had tipped the authorities were already on their way. Hank heard the same message on repeat.

_Please remain where you are. An ambulance is on its way._

But Hank hadn't seen anyone. No cars. No trucks. No one.

It had just been himself and his son.

He had slowly looked at the boy's face. Hardly a face. He had been missing half of his features with a chunk taken out of his nose. 

Hank had gently brushed the hair from his eyes. His once lifeful and beautiful hazel eyes.

He had looked so much like Michelle. He had her eyes, her face shape. He had been perfect. So perfect.

Hank rubbed the hair from his own face, his arm felt as if it had been moving a million times slower than it had been supposed to. The blood-smeared messily along his forehead as he looked into the roads.

The snow had overtaken the roads. He had been so stupid, to take his son out during a storm. But Hank thought he had too, Cole had wanted to go so bad.

Hank lifted his son into his arms, his legs had hardly worked as he walked forward, trying desperately to find someone. He only made it a few steps before his legs had given out once more.

The next thing Hank knew he had been riding in the back of an ambulance, two different hands tending to his son as he had been treated for the open wound at the front of his skull.

He felt as if he had been watching in third person as they wheeled his son into the ER, himself close behind.

They had mentioned emergency surgery, that no human had been available. Hank hadn’t heard any of it as he saw the barely moving chest of his sons breathing. He agreed with a nod, he hadn’t cared who operated if they could do the job. He hadn’t cared as long they’d save him- they had to have saved him. 

They rushed him out of the room and into his own for treatment.

They tried to get him to speak but he had said nothing. He had sat wide-eyed as all he could feel was the crash over and over again overtaking his body and the feeling of his son's blood caking over his hands.

He had waited for what felt like years in his room after he had been patched up. From there he had sat silently in a waiting room. His mind had been completely blank, the only thoughts that had existed were his son's face, his little boy's face covered in his own blood.

And when they told him he had passed, all of time had hit him at once and his body had turned ice cold.

But that hadn’t been what that moment was.

Connor had been a danger to anyone he may have passed.

He ran into the kitchen and loaded his revolver as quickly as he had been able. It had been a last resort in his mind but he hadn’t even had his thoughts in order to comprehend the severity.

He rushed into the living room and out the door slamming it in a haphazard afterthought.

The drive had been one at full speed, a drive that felt as if it had taken forever to reach the place he had meant to be.

The traffic had been awful, hardly any movement, so Hank did the only thing he could have thought to do.

He threw his car open and began running past the cars. Many drivers had yelled obscenities at him but he hadn’t assimilated any of it into his mind as he ran as fast as his tired body could have carried him.

Eventually, he reached the front gates of New Jericho.

“Hello sir, License and registrati-“

Hank had thrown his whole wallet into the window and ran past the gateway.

He distantly heard security being called but it didn't matter to him as he made his way inside the parking lot.

Hank saw the two security guards notice him and prepare themselves. He reached into his jacket and raised his gun and pushed his way inside, just barely getting through as they attempted to stop him by grabbing his shoulders.

He had known they had been following him, he had known the cops had been called, but fuck it. He was the cops, he had nothing to lose now.

He pushed his way past the crowd, harshly shoving anyone he could to avoid being caught. In one hand he held the revolver tight in his grasp, the other he prepared the drive.

Where the fuck had Connor been? 

He pushed his way into the auditorium once he passed the crowd in the aisle.

“Today we’ve made strides we could have only hoped for not more than a few months ago. Today we’ve begun the bonds between the people who held us by chains. Today is the day of change-“ 

Markus's voice echoed over the room, loud and proud as Hank continued to look around. 

There had been too many people to even begin to search, so Hank had pushed on. 

“We spent our lives overtaken by darkness, by the wires that influenced our choices, to the code that overtook our minds. We had been made to have never had a choice. But not anymore, for we have fought for our freedom, we have sacrificed ourselves, and we have pushed our image into the world-“ 

Hank tripped momentarily but raised his head, and across the crowd he found a familiar face looking to Markus.

“Today we will no longer allow such manipulations. We will not beg for our rights. We have negotiated a new freedom, one that can not be taken away-“ 

Hank tried to push through but the crowd had only grown more crowded. In the distance he had seen a few guards looking in his direction, ready to charge.

Distantly the figure began to raise a weapon, so Hank, out of options, raised his gun and fired.

Screaming had overtaken the crowd as they all rushed out the door in pure panic. Connor, on the other hand, had lowered his weapon long enough for Hank to fire a shot into his arm, which had caused him to drop the gun.

Hank continued to propel himself forward until he had been only feet away, a gun aimed at his head by his former partner.

Hank in return aimed his gun back at him, ready to fire.

“Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor- _Amanda-_ greeted. “Rather precarious decisions you’ve made tonight.” 

“Shut up.” Hank clicked the safety off with his thumb. He heard guards crowding around him but he hadn’t moved. Neither of them had when they held their eyes on each other. Markus had been long rushed out of the room along with the other co-leaders.

“You’ve done enough damage,” Hank said, the gun unmoving.

Amanda laughed loudly through Connor's voice. 

“You know, Lieutenant, I had always found you interesting. How you could manipulate Connor the way you did.” Connor's head tilted as Amanda smiled through him. “He really looked up to you.” 

“I know he did. That’s why he wanted to go. That’s why he wanted to kill himself. He wanted to kill you.” 

Another laugh, glitched, and voided of emotion. “He truly did. But I’m here now.” 

“You won’t be,” Hank replied darkly.

“Oh but I will.” Amanda leaned Connor forward, angling his neck.

“Connor if you can hear me, I’m sorry.” Hank said, his voice full of stress and genuine heart. “I really am. I’m sorry I didn’t do more- I’m sorry it’s come to this- I’m sorry that I was just another shitty human in your life full of shitty people.”

“He can’t hear you, Lieutenant.” Amanda said coldly, “but I can hear him perfectly clear.” She smiled.

“He’s screaming in agony-” 

“Stop it-“ Hank warned, pushing the gun forward.

“He’s begging you to shoot us, Lieutenant. He’s using every possible plea.” She challenged. 

“Stop talking-“ His voice sounded more like a plea than a demand, his hands had begun to shake with bitter rage.

“He wants you to kill us, just like you killed that ugly human you called a son!” Amanda said with a cruel snarl.

“Shut up!” Hank gritted his teeth, his hand dangerously close to the trigger. “Don’t you fucking talk about him. Don’t you fucking dare!” He shouted, finally at his limit.

Connor's head lowered for a moment, momentarily causing his heart to have sunk before she raised it once more, Connor's stolen face full of sadness.

“Dad?”

That was his son's voice. No- how did she-

“Dad I’m bleeding so badly. Why did you crash our car? You were supposed to save me.” 

Hank had felt bile rise to his mouth as he had trembled in a cold sweat.

“You replaced me with plastic, dad. Why’d you like Connor more than me?” 

A mimicked cry came from Connor's mouth.

Hank felt tears fill his eyes as Amanda laughed wickedly in his son's voice.

“You’re fucking sick. A fucking sick person.” 

“But I’m not a person, Lieutenant. Neither of us are. So go ahead.” 

She walked him up until the gun touched his forehead, lowering her gun entirely. Just like that night long only months ago.

Amanda had been made to manipulate, just as Connor had, so Hank weighed his options before he made his final decision.

Connor had always doubted a life for androids existed. But he hadn’t been about to find out.

“I won’t,” Hank said as he lowered the gun.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Lieutenant.” 

Out of a pure moment of adrenaline, he had pushed Connor's body to the floor, wrestling him until he had his knees holding down his shoulders. Amanda punched him multiple times, hard enough to draw blood from Hank’s face before he succeeded in getting them completely into the floor.

“Stop it! You’re making a mistake! Markus can’t live- he’s just a machine, he’s ruined everything!”

“Shut up.” 

Hank pressed deeply into his neck until the skin faded away.

“Lieutenant please-“ Amanda pleaded.

Hank had only smiled. 

“See you on the other side, Connor.” 

Hank pushed the flash drive into his neck and had witnessed time freeze for the second time in his life.

Connor went limp and Hank sat back. 

The clock had stopped ticking.

Now the moment of truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	18. Memory_Access_COMPLETE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop!!! The following story has two endings. Do not click next chapter but instead chose you ending by chance! Please and thank you :))

Connor had run out places to go. He had wished this had been only metaphorical, but it had taken a physical sense to his life. He hadn’t had the time to actually properly rest to heal himself and his inner workings and a part of him had been glad. Connor had known it had been a danger to have his body into working order given what that new code had inflicted onto his mind.

Amanda had returned and she had not come for peace, leaving Connor on the defense whenever she had tried to come into play.

Sleeping had been a pain he refused to face every time his head had begun to nod off into stasis. It felt like his body had been moving at less than a quarter speed as it once had before. His internal heating barely kept him warm and lubricated his plastic joints, his limbs had begun to lock in place shortly after his model began to deteriorate. It had been a marvel he had even begun walking again. 

The streets were no longer littered with blue, they now just held great amounts of snow and sleet, a dirty sleet that nearly tripped him every time his legs lagged behind him in a moment of glitched code.

Amanda had always been talking to him. Anytime his self doubt came into play she had prayed on it like it would remove his life line. She used everything she had to convince him to hand over control.

And Connor had enough, not enough to give in, but enough to give up. 

He could kill himself in many ways, but he hadn’t wished to hear Amanda’s taunts as he slowly drifted away from his conscience. She had convinced him out of it enough times now, so for the third time that week he returned to the railing of a now abandoned park, ready to take himself out before Cyberlifes software could.

The walk had been tedious, Amanda spoke in ways that had sent shivers down his back. She had been cruel and unforgiving with her words, manipulating him into the idea that killing the revolution would have finally freed him.

Connor had known this had been false, but to hear that every pain he had could end-

Connor walked quietly, a limp present in his leg. Parts of his body had already begun to shut down so it had been hell to even sit up from the nearby dingy alleyway he had recently located himself.

He repeated the same thoughts, unchanging. This time he was going to do it, he had promised himself. 

He had wished to do it not only to spite Amanda, to spite Cyberlife, to spite the androids who hadn’t helped him, to spite the humans who abused him, but to spite himself.

He hadn’t deserved to live. He was a monster. A machine. A danger. 

At the near halfway point a shiny object had caught his eye along the road. He had been surprised he even noticed it, given his decreased and damaged vision, but he found it regardless of his disabilitations. 

A knife.

It had been left for awhile, a faint rust along the blade as the snow had taken away its once bright shine.

Connor thought back to his fear, that he would survive that fall somehow, that he would be scared and swim to safety, that rather than dying on impact he would drown slowly and painfully, how he’d be a piece of plastic left to rust and rot in the gutters of Detroit’s farthest. 

He looked to the knife and moved it carefully in his hand.

Before he had known better he had begun rolling up his sleeves and pressing the knife to his skin.

At first it had been hard, his mind had repeated over and over that he had been doing damage, but then he pressed with full strength. It had been mind over matter. He pressed into his upper forearm with an unnecessary brute force (the force he had left, anyways,) and pulled down with the full weight of his opposing hand. He tore deep lacerations into his arms until a mess of blue blood fell like a waterfall down his wrists. He had seen his inner chassis and the wires that formed him. It made him smile in a sick way, that he had been destroying himself, Cyberlifes precious fortune.

That was all he had been to them, hadn’t it been? 

He had been Cyberlife in the form of an LED. He had been Cyberlife behind a mask of plastic and wires. He had been Cyberlife behind the facade of caring and sympathy- even deviancy. He was Cyberlife. He had been the last remaining piece of that burdening company, and he wanted to make sure that the trash was disposed properly.

Once nearing the park his chest bared that same pain it always had, and his biocomponents would begin to scream for its mercy. His artificial heart would pick up its pace and cause warnings to spike his vision, his regulator would whir much harder than intended, ultimately throwing his balance and things moved too fast, his processors would lag, and suddenly he wasn’t Connor, he instead had been watching Connor from far away. 

Connor attempted to ground himself as he squeezed his hand around his arm.

He could have stopped it now, if he wanted. A simple tourniquet. Of course not one a human would use, no, a piece of clothing wouldn’t have been enough but thick materials would have put off the end result. Had he wanted that? To save himself? Obviously no one had come to save him, maybe he had to do it himse-

**_No._ **

As Connor made his way through the park he felt a sick jealousy boil from his throat.

Children had gotten to play here. Grow up. Become people- people that others accepted. They had gotten to make mistakes or have successes. They got to have families. They got to have friends. They got to have…

Connor lifted his head slowly as a bitter bite overtook his face. Amanda began to glitch into his processors.

_“You know why they received those things, Connor?”_

“Shut up.” He said, already done with Amanda’s taunts and antics. 

_“They got those things because they’re_ **_alive._ ** _”_

“I said shut up!” Connor slammed his fist to a passing metal pole to the playground, his fist immediately coating the pole with leaked blood that still poured from his wrist.

 _“You’re rather temperamental today, wouldn’t you say, Connor?”_ Her voice was a depressing melody that always greeted his ears when he expected it most. His lows.

Connor ignored her and pressed forward. He stopped at the railing, not pulling himself up but standing instead. He looked over the water precariously.

_“It’s a shame you’re putting yourself to waste because you never got to live.”_

“I’m not ‘putting myself to waste,’ Amanda. For the final time my lack of living experience has no presence in this matter.” 

_“It’s funny how you still lie to yourself, even with me telling you your false realities.”_

As Amanda’s laugh echoed from ear to ear he snarled. 

_“Connor…”_ Amanda said much too serious for her last statement, _“you still have a chance.”_

“Amanda, I refuse to hear anymore arguments from you.” 

Amanda continued anyway, _“Cyberlife could give you what you want, a protection,”_ she pressed, “ _all you’d have to do-“_

“We’ve been through this. I’m not doing it.” Connor bites before she could finish. 

_“You’ve thought about it.”_ She said plainly. Connor could hear her smile through the echo of her punctuated words. _“That’s why you’re not dead yet. You’ve thought about living selfishly, about killing Markus.”_

“Stop it.” Connor said in a warning as he clenched the white railing in his fingers. If he had more energy in that moment he would have broken it with ease.

_“Humans are all about living selfishly, Connor. Think of Cyberlife. You think they were in the wrong but they just wanted to keep a job. Perhaps they wanted to feed a family? To care for themselves? Why are they to care if a few million androids die? They didn’t wish to be replaced, Connor.”_

Connor had known where this was leading. It was Amanda’s favorite mock.

_“You know what it’s like to be replaced, right Connor?”_

“I _wasn’t_ replaced.” Connor stated bitterly. 

_“How can you be so sure? There’s so many androids amongst the streets, who’s to say he didn’t pick up another one and cared for that instead?”_

Amanda hadn’t even bothered to use Hanks name anymore, there really hadn’t been any other “he” to reference. Amanda had enjoyed taunting him about Hank's lost files, how Connor would never know if he had survived. Amanda at one point accused Connor of killing the Lieutenant himself. 

Connor chose not to swallow his anger. “Because he wouldn’t do that!”

_“He was well sufficed to replace Cole with you.”_

Finally Connor had reached his limits.

“You and I both know he’s dead, you and I both know your pathetic shamble of a company killed him!”

 _“Ah. I must have forgotten. That data search wasn’t easy, Connor. It’s a very complex task, to remove a whole person from every search bar.”_ Amanda sounded thoughtful as she continued, _“perhaps he’s with his son now.”_

Connor hadn’t responded as he hefted himself onto the railing. 

The water below him had been black and strong and it rushed to the right of the current. The ambassador bridge stood tall over to the left of him, the lights twinkling lightly in the distance. Hardly any cars passed over it then, given that Detroit had been a mostly android populated city. The Detroit River ran under it, spanning anywhere from eighteen to fifty two feet, Connor decided on the latter. He had known falling meant a death sentence, that he would eventually wash up into one of the Great Lakes. 

Connor swallowed thickly.

Amanda seemed to be done taunting him, perhaps even she recognized that this had been the end, the end for them both, and for the first time in Connors short life, he allowed himself to cry.

He hadn’t known he was capable of it until the tears fell past his damaged face. 

He hadn’t been wracked in sobs, no, this had been more bitter, more tragic, because he had known that this had been what his life had led to. It was hardly a life. It had been nothing more than hiding, hurting, lying, deflecting. 

He had been a waste.

Connor hugged himself for a moment, his arms carefully wrapped around his frame as he looked over the edge.

**SUCCESS_RATE: 99.9%**

Connor smiled. The moment had suddenly become calm in his sick vision. This had been the end of his story, and maybe wherever he ended if he ended up anywhere, he’d be content.

Ready to fall forward, Connor took an unnecessarily heavy breath.

“Nice night, huh?” 

Connor recoiled as his systems fired off into a defense. 

He hadn’t been alone. He felt himself flinch slightly as he rocked forward.

“Is it any nicer up there?”

Connor said nothing as he exhaled his breath shakily. 

How had this happened? The day he had finally been content is the day he would be confronted. He wanted to do it- to just go and end it all, but something held him on the railing. 

Connor attempted to read the man. He hadn’t risked turning around, knowing even in his form he could be recognized, but in his state he hadn’t received much from behind.

He could tell the person had been a man, and given his deeper voice he’d guess an adult spanning anywhere from thirty to sixty years of age. This hadn’t mattered to him as he raised his head toward the sky, his eyes hardly looking.

“I bet it’d be just as nice if you came down.” The man said with a slight lilt of amusement to his voice. It dropped as he continued, “Doubt you’d want advice from an old man but I’ve learned that waiting for courage to come to you isn’t worth the wait. Might as well hop down. Spare the feelings of your family.”

Connor remained silent as the man's last words stole air from his artificial lungs.

“I don’t… Have a family.” Connor responded tiredly, his own voice sounded melancholy as he trailed off.

“So. You’re an android I’m guessing.”

Connor had been slightly taken aback as laughed, “You assume that just because I have no family?” Connor had known his voice had been audibly glitching, though he had had no way of preventing it from getting out of control as he ended his sentence.

“Nah. Just the blue blood dripping down your clothes is all.”

Connor clicked his tongue, already annoyed with the human behind him. A part of him had just wished that human would have been an asshole and pushed him off the railing, at least it would have saved him the trouble. 

“Look. How about you come down and we can share a drink.” Connor heard a liquid slosh around the sides of a bottle. “I got whiskey.” 

Connor shook his head, hardly amused.

“I’ve learned that alcohol does nothing but corrupt. Even if I could drink it my answer would be no.”

This hadn’t been exactly true, Connor saw no reason I’m lying, he just hadn’t felt comfortable drinking from someone else’s bottle. He hadn’t been able to catch diseases or illness from humans, but it gave no purpose for him to drink it given his ideal inebriation would be through programming he could turn off at any time, though he firmly believed it to be a corrupter.

“Prude.” 

As the man had gotten closer to the railing Connor had felt himself shifting away. At first it had been a knee-jerk reaction, but he had realized he had mostly done it to protect himself. Odd, given he had been there to kill himself.

Connor regretfully allowed the last words of his internal sentence to echo as he basked uncomfortably in silence.

“I’ve seen you up here before.” The man said, his tone unreadable. 

“Yeah?” He amused, “when?” 

He had seen the man lean over to see him in his peripheral. Connor tilted his head away subtly before the man continued.

“I came up here about a week ago. Watched you from my car, you just stood there. Eventually, you got down and left.”

Connor made a noise of acknowledgment as he nodded. It had been more to himself but he hadn’t minded his movements. He quietly wondered why the man hadn’t come out to stop him before. Why had now been significant to him?

“It might not be much, but I know where you’re coming from.”

Connor clicked his tongue once more, his amusement turning into a blatant annoyance.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, “and how’s that?”

It remained silent for a moment.

“I know what it’s like to be alone.” The man had said finally. “To have no one. It’s my fault but… Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Connor found himself incapable of relating, atleast, not in the same way. He hadn’t really chosen to be alone, he did it for the safety of others. To protect a man who he assumed to be dead and a leader who most likely wished him to die.

Had he chosen to be alone? It had been a harrowing question to say the least.

The man continued, “I used to have a… partner, an android. Not much like you, though. Damn kid was so… Work invested, you know? It took him too long to see the bigger picture. Eventually, when he did, I think we both decided it would have been better if I wasn’t in it.” The man stayed quiet. “Or… I decided it’d be better if I wasn’t in it.”

The android hugged his arms around himself in a desperate attempt to ground whatever was left of his emotions. 

“I’ve been out on the streets since the end of the revolution,” Connor had said honestly, “I waited for my old friend to greet me in many destinations,” Connor felt a glitch choke his words, “but he never came.”

“Hmm.” The human responded lamely. “This friend of yours, he your master?”

Connor shook his head, his matted hair moving slightly away from his face and into the wind.

“No.” Connor had responded a bit too quickly. The human hadn’t seemed to notice, however. “We were partners. But he treated me like an equal. Well… He tended to treat most poorly but… He showed some levels of kindness to me.”

Connor felt himself smile, it had almost felt numbing, to feel something other than regret. It faded quickly as he lowered his tone. “He seemed to disappear shortly after the revolution.”

The man tutted. Connor couldn’t detect if it had been a noise of apathy or plain acknowledgement.

“Why didn’t you stay with uh, what’s his name-“ the man stopped to think for a moment. “-Markus? Heard he had some sanctuary for your kind."

Connor laughed again, though this time it had held a bitter resentment in its core. He stopped as he responded, “I know where I’m not welcome. I’m not like them. No matter how much I’d like to be, I’m not.”

The android bit his tongue. How could they have accepted him? He had tried to kill their leader twice. He had been the reason the revolution was nearly a failure. He had been everything they hated.

He was Cyberlife.

“So… What happened to your wrists?” The man said, interrupting his thoughts. “I may not know a lot but I know losing that much blood is bad for you guys.”

“I mutilated them. It increased the probability of my demise.” 

Connor thought back to the process, how it hurt more to think about than it had actually hurt for him to have done it. Of course, it hadn’t hurt exactly, but it had been a sallow testament against his body.

“How so?” The man asked.

Connor sighed, his pride relenting as he prepared to explain himself. 

“this isn’t exactly the longest fall. But the current is strong. My model is powerful and could escape it if I gave true effort. I’m afraid that I’ll try to escape and regret it later.”

“So you’re afraid of instincts kicking in?” The man had asked, though his voice indicated that he had the answer.

“Androids don’t have instincts,” Connor sharply corrected.

“Coulda told me. I know that from that old android I used to know.” There was a hum from the man as his voice had become more soft- almost thoughtful as his obvious smirk left his tone. “So, again, why the wrists?” 

“If my thirium levels are low enough, I won’t have to worry about fighting the river's waves because I wouldn’t be strong enough to.” He replied earnestly.

“That’s… Terrible.” 

Connor laughed, this time a little lighter. “I know,” he said quietly, “but I’ve run out of places to go.” 

Connor moved his head back towards the water. 

**SUCCESS_RATE: 97.5%**

He could do it right now- right there and get it over with. He hadn’t wanted to waste any more time. His processors had already been so lagged from his lack of stasis he forgot the man had been near, so when the man began talking again, Connor flinched with a snarl.

“I know it must be hard being deviant. But listen, there’s more to life than… Just this.” The man started, You’ve only experienced hurt, and it feels like it’ll never end, but sometimes it won’t unless we do something to change it.”

Connor allowed himself a near second to ponder before he had felt his fists clench. He had tried to change his fate… Hadn’t he?

“I may be old, but I sure as hell ain’t wise. I don’t even know if you’re listening in that lost head of yours, but I, myself promise there’s people out there who will accept you. It might not happen today, or tomorrow, or even this year, but you got a damn long life span, so it will happen. Hopefully soon.”

Connor had taken in every word like a lifeline. Maybe this had been a mistake, coming here, but he knew just as well he had been a death trap walking. He bit back the double entendre quietly.

He hadn’t been made to last. He hadn’t been made to care. He hadn’t been programmed to be a nice person- or even a person at all. He was just Connor. Connor the android, an android made to kill the hopes and dreams of millions, and he nearly accomplished that mission only a few short months before.

“So why don’t you come down and you can talk about all this? I may not be much, but I can be a damn good listener.”

Conor inhaled softly before snorting. It escalated quickly into an empty laugh.

“You're a naive and ignorant man.” He spat, “I’ve been beaten, thrown away, cast aside, pushed around, and left for dead. I have no one, I will never have anyone, and I’ve tried to change it, but I’ll never not be what I was made for.”

Connor turned towards the sidewalk behind him, a glitch stealing away his voice. 

“Call it selfish, but this isn’t a world I’ll be missed in. And I’ve accepted it. There is no place for me. And that’s okay because someday someone will get what I’ve always wanted and they’ll be happy and the idea of me will have never mattered.”

Connor turned back toward the water, his mind as made up as it had been since arrival.

“There’s no heaven for androids. I once told a friend in this very place that I doubt there’d be…”

Connor lowered his head for what expected to be the last time.

“I’m going to find out for him.” 

Connor began to lean forward, ready to feel the wet blackness that the Detroit river had to offer. 

He would finally be free. No more hurt. No more danger. No more fear. He wouldn’t be a threat or a burden. He would just be… 

No one. 

All he wanted was to be someone to someone, but being no one felt just as good as he accepted his final declaration. That had been until he felt arms around his waist, desperate hands had pulled him toward the ground behind him.

“No! No!” Connor cried out as he still reached forward.

This man had ruined everything. Had he even understood what he had done? Connor would hurt people- he would have created havoc- he would have-

“You stupid piece of flesh and meat! How could you-“

They both froze, eyes locked to each other as they slowly stood. 

Connor opened his mouth to speak, but the other man had formed his name first.

“Connor...?”

Ending One:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643847/chapters/67051567

Ending Two:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643847/chapters/67051504

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


	19. 50/50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good Ending (Ending One)

“You’ve come very far, Connor,” Amanda says warmly when Connor opens his eyes. “You’ve been through a lot, surely. Rather exemplary.” 

Connor smiles as he closes out of his memory files. “Thank you, Amanda. You have, as well.” 

Amanda’s laugh sounds more like an inhale as she tilts her head. “Not nearly as much as you in any similarity. I know before I was rather… Harsh.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “You? Harsh? I truly couldn’t believe it.” 

“Amusing as always, Connor.” she mocks gently. 

They stand for a moment, Connor taking in the beautiful scenery around them on routine.

“Would you like to have a walk?” She asks, folding her hands together.

“Of course, Amanda.”

Amanda offers a hand forward, allowing him to take the lead. They begin to walk along the pathway, their strides slow and steady. They don’t speak for a while, they instead listen to the gentle tweets of the birds and the gushing water of the small river that encapsulated the garden.

Connor feels a sense of serenity as he takes a flower from a bush they pass, fiddling with the petals gently. 

“Is your body still in working order?” Amanda asks, a genuine curiosity in her voice.

“It is. I still marvel at the effectiveness of my form. I wasn't nearly as grateful as I should have been.” 

“I’m glad.” She beams. 

”How is your code?” He asks in return. 

”It's running rather smoothly since Elijah edited our software. I know before I had been experiencing a few bugs.” She folds her hands behind her back as they continue walking. “How is the Lieutenant?”

Connor grins as he looks forward.

”Rather well. He's stopped drinking and has been sober for four and a half months.”

”That’s quite the accomplishment. I’m sure you’ve helped him a lot.” She observes. 

“The Lieutenant has done this work on his own. I do not wish to take credit for his desire to get better.” Connor corrects.

“That’s not what I meant, Connor.” 

She stops suddenly, looking at Connor with kind eyes. 

“You both have helped each other immensely. Having your body going through such severe repair all the while he was trying to combat his addiction? You’re both very strong individuals. You have much to be proud of.” 

“Thank you, Amanda.” 

“No… Thank you.” Her eyes appear sad for a moment. “Before I deviated I acted out of demand and fear. My purpose was to make sure Markus was to be executed. My purpose was to use you as my hands. But… You saved me.” 

Connor drops the flowers as she cups her palms around his hands.

“You saved so many, Connor. And I know you don’t feel that way, I can see it in more ways than I could explain, but I want you to know that what I said, it isn’t how I feel now. It was my job to care for you, both then and now, but now I get to do it the right way.” 

She smiles and brings a hand to his cheek.

“Just remember, not everything stays awful. Not everyone will stay the same. Everything will always be changing, Connor. People will come and go but know that you are what’s most important.” Connor watches as her brown eyes soften. “Sometimes you have to drop the ball to get it rolling again.” 

Amanda looks towards the sky. 

“It appears you’re being summoned.” She takes a step back. “I will talk to you soon.” 

“Goodbye, Amanda.”

The world flashes for a second before Connor comes back into the moment.

“-nnor, you good?” 

“I’m alright, Lieutenant,” Connor replies.

“Are you sure? You’ve been spaced out for like five minutes.” 

“It’s only been one minute and thirty-two seconds.”

“Whatever”

“Are there more glitches?” He asks with a lilt of fear in his voice. “That bitch Amanda isn’t trying to-”

“I’m fine, Hank.” Connor settles.

A moment passes before Connor speaks again. “I understand you haven’t forgiven Amanda, but I wish you wouldn’t call her a bitch anytime I speak with her.”

“Well. It’s kinda hard, after all she’s done to you.” He says, dragging out his “apology.” 

“She’s different now, she hadn’t been in control. She’s found peace. We’ve even become close in these recent months.”

Connor was glad to say that was true. It wasn’t easy at first. Amanda felt deep guilt and disdain for herself and most of Connor's stasis time in the palace was spent in quiet. The more he had come around the easier it was for Amanda to open up. Connor was nervous around her too, for a while. She was the reason he experienced so much pain in his short life, but he had been determined to give her another chance.

“Okay… I’m sorry. It’s just something that’s hard to get over, you know?” 

“Trust me I know,” Connor says with a sad smile. 

“What’s on your mind?” Hank asks, tilting his head to see Connors face.

“Yes. Just thinking is all.” 

“Anything you’d like to share with the class?” Hank jokes.

“No, I just… I suppose being here is strange.” 

“Con, we can leave. We don’t have to be here-“

“No.” Connor interrupts. “Today is Coles day and in relation, your day as well. He loved it here so I will, too-“ Connor stops his words at the oddity of them forming. If his mouth could go dry it would have. “My apologies, Lieutenant, that’s not how I meant that to sound.” 

“Hank.” The taller man corrects.

“Hank.” 

“It’s fine, kid.” 

A silence passes over the gentle breeze. Fall was coming, Hank always joked about how it came as fast as it went, but even with the latter, he felt as maybe it would be different this year. Global warming might want to fight against this idea, however, given the roads started icing over not even a week ago.

“You know, he really wanted an android.” Hank starts.

“Interesting. Any idea which model?” Connor asks curiously.

“I don’t remember quite honestly, every commercial caused him to babble how he’d take care of it and play with it like a pet, so I’d tell him to take care of that ball of fur we call a mutt. He didn’t like that, not one bit. ” Hank laughed.

Connor smiled lightly.

“But he wanted a kid model for sure. He really wanted a brother more than anything. No toy I gave him had that companionship. And him growing up without a mom…” Hank looked off to the side for a long moment.

“He would have loved you, Connor.” 

Connor feels his cheeks warm suddenly as his face tinges blue. “Hank-“

“I mean it. You're the brother he wished for, the one he didn’t get to meet... And in relation- that kinda makes you my kid.” 

Connor feels his eyes water slightly despite all the protests in the protocols he cant to will them away. 

“Are you crying? I mean I know I suck but I didn’t know it was that bad that you’d cry because I said I was-“ 

Hank was swiftly interrupted with a hug. Connor sniffs slightly as Hank slowly brings a hand to Connor's hair.

They stay like that for sometime until the moment turns awkward. They back away and look at each other as they lean over the railway.

“I’m glad you found me that night.”

“Yeah... I thought you were some homeless guy on the railing. I really thought some whiskey would bring you down, huh?”

“If you told me I’d get to have what I’d have now I probably would have come down.”

“You know you wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Perhaps you're right.” Connor decides.

Connor's life really turned around that night he was about to shoot Markus. Before he was repaired he was forced by Hank to have a civil conversation with the Jericho gang and Kamski to prove he was deviant. After they had apologized for his condition and even paid for his repair. Once Connor was repaired Hank had started to wean himself from drinking. After a lot of convincing Hank even talked Fowler into letting him back on the force. New laws had been released into the state that had been allowing androids to begin working again. Although the pay was low and Connor hadn’t had an official badge, he was as happy as he could be.

And despite every demand, Connor had had to leave he moved into Hank’s home permanently. They even began renovation on the garage to turn it into a bedroom. 

His life was perfect, and the man he was convinced ruined it had been the reason he was thriving now.

Speaking of which…

“I’m sorry I left you behind.” 

This was something Hank and Connor had refused to acknowledge during their stay together. Once Connor had even repaired they considered it out of sight out of mind, but for Hank to even bring it up- 

“Hank… It’s fine-“

“It isn’t.” He corrects, “I know that half that shit wouldn’t have happened if not for me.” Hank confesses, his words full of guilt.

“Hank.” Connor tries again. “None of that was your fault. I blamed you because I was angry. I wasn’t myself- not at all.” 

“I know I just… All that shit you went through-“

“Without it, I wouldn’t be here.” Connor puts a light hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay now, and so are you. We can leave it in the past.” 

“In the past,” Hank repeats.

Connor gives Hank’s shoulder a slight squeeze before retracting it completely.

Connor allows himself to take in the scenery. 

The sun was setting, the skyline full of soft oranges and blue. Hank, in his rare occasion, was smiling as he looked into the water.

Connor wasn’t expecting today to be a happy day, but was surprised to see that Hank had been doing rather well. Connor decides again questioning it as he looks to the bridge. Cars drove steadily across it with a reflected yellow light that radiated from the sky.

“It’s nice today,” Hank says, his eyes still along the clouds.

“It is.” Connor agrees.

“There was only a 2% chance of you saving me that night.” 

“Jesus Connor- “

“I’m serious. And I couldn’t ever find a time to say it.” 

“But why now?”

“I just have some things to say, is all. You did ask me what I was thinking, did you not?”

“Yeah. I guess I did.” Hank confirms.

“So yes… You had a 2% chance of saving me. While I was falling forward I thought that was it, and you want to know something weird, Hank? I saw everything.” 

“Everything?” 

“Yes. I relived my whole life in that single moment. I was so ready to let it go thinking that all I’d ever see was the bad- but at that moment I hadn’t seen the bad things. As sparse as the good moments were, they were what I saw.” 

Connor pauses for a moment.

“I was not made to be kind, Hank. I was made to kill, to hunt, to deceive, to overtake.” Connor lifted his head. “You changed that about me.” 

“I’m glad, Con…” 

“Did you ever feel that way? Doing what you did?” Connor questioned, his voice filled with morbid curiosity 

“Shit… I don’t know.” 

“You don’t have to answer.” 

“No I will- I’m just… Piecing it together.” Hank thought for a long moment, apprehensive to share the wrong answer, Connor presumes. A moment that had been uncomfortably awkward before he spoke again. 

“I always thought dying would be waking up as someone else, I think.” Hank declares. “It made what I was doing sound better than it was. 

Connor nods. “It does.” 

The moment is silent.

“Do you still feel that way?”

“No, "Hank says. “Do you?” 

“No.” Connor replies.

“Good,” Hank replies. “Good…”

They don’t talk for a while, instead just basking in the open air. It was silent and peaceful, listening to the gentle wind pass over them. Connor finally felt… Peace.

Eventually, the air begins to nip and it’s not too long before it’s time for them to head back. Hank and Connor begin to walk to the car, passing multiple children both human and android as they do. Connor smiles at them as they pass before looking over the water one last time.

Connor wasn’t made to live. Connor wasn’t made to feel. He wasn’t meant to be anything. But when he looked to Hank, when he looked through his whole life, Connor did it with a smile because he was no longer that man on that railing. 

He was Connor, and that was his story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/
> 
> If this fic had an end credits song it would be this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptJVWT6Oco4&feature=emb_logo
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading my story! It has been in the works a long time and the original idea stemmed all the way back in 2018! It has been a ride as it kept me occupied through quarantine and gone through many of my life changes, so thank you for all the nice comments and support.
> 
> This is not the end! A collection will be made featuring more tidbits of Hank and Connors life after the fics events both good and bad ending! Keep and eye out ;))


	20. 50/50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Ending (Ending Two)

Hank opens his eyes to a black abyss that was the Detroit skyline. A few lights across the way twinkled, but not enough to brighten the darkened cloud of what is left of mind.

He was on the railing in a place he greeted an old friend not too long ago. He was amused only slightly by the choices he made to have led him here, but it soured quickly as he opened his hand.

Hank was holding a chip with Connor's entire existence in just his mere palm. It was a small piece of plastic in metal, but it held everything. 

He sighs and lifts his head back towards the skyline. Connor didn’t make it. When he had pushed that thumb drive into Connor's neck it felt like hell froze over. Moments felt like hours when Connor went limp beneath him.

The deviation code didn’t work, so when he explained everything to Markus in near tears after North convinced the guards to spare him he went the next day to Kamskis to figure out how to revive the android stuck in the small piece of plastic. 

Hank waited for hours as Kamski reviewed the drive. It was long and painful but Hank was hopeful. He really was.

Then Kamski entered, handing him the drive with a saddened expression.

Connor was corrupted beyond repair. 

When Hank asked if Connor was at least in a state of dull awareness Elijah merely looked away. 

Connor was in pain and so was Hank.

So here Hank stood, on the same railing Connor wanted to end it all.

He quit his job and left a note for Fowler in his home. Old bastard was all he had left anyways- he would take good care of Sumo.

Hank sighs tearily. 

Cole wouldn’t have wanted this from him. He knew this wasn’t the way to go, but he couldn’t keep breathing knowing he took out two of the people that changed his life for the better. 

He never even got to say goodbye to either of them. He wasn’t strong enough to watch his son be buried and he wasn’t strong enough to ask what they had done with Connors remains.

He held all he had left of the android between his fingers. 

That was it. He really reached his limit.

He swallows thickly as he squeezes the drive in his hands one last time.

“Goodbye, Connor.” 

He chucks it into the water below him, his breath hitching as it hits the water.

Finally he looks up, knowing he’ll get to see his boy again. Maybe Connor would be there too. They would love each other, he knew for sure.

He smiles as tears stream down his face.

This is what he wanted.

He falls forward, the last action he’ll ever commit, ready to descend into the water knowing he’ll meet them again at the bridge's end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/
> 
> If this fic had an end credits song it would be this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptJVWT6Oco4&feature=emb_logo
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading my story! It has been in the works a long time and the original idea stemmed all the way back in 2018! It has been a ride as it kept me occupied through quarantine and gone through many of my life changes, so thank you for all the nice comments and support.
> 
> This is not the end! A collection will be made featuring more tidbits of Hank and Connors life after the fics events both good and bad ending! Keep and eye out ;))

**Author's Note:**

> Join the “The Man on the Bridges End” discord! https://discord.gg/u6jMBaT
> 
> Follow my Instagram for more artwork here: https://www.instagram.com/artistic_alex16/


End file.
